


The Sleeping Prince

by Applesandbannas747



Series: Fated [1]
Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: When a Fated falls, the only thing able to wake them is a kiss from their soulmate. Eugene's never thought too hard about Fated or soulmates; as a normal human, that world doesn't concern him. But when he witnesses the fall of a might-as-well-be prince, Eugene can't seem tostopthinking about it.
Relationships: Eugene Labao/Jesse Coste
Series: Fated [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754926
Comments: 18
Kudos: 53





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I think I'll hold off on writing more Eugene/Jesse until we know Jesse :)  
> Me: *is a liar and a fool who lacks self-control*

Eugene was at the party when the prince fell asleep. It was a fluke that he was there at all. His friend Benny was on the wait staff and Eugene had swung by to deliver some ice that Benny had sworn was a life or death matter.

_“Cut through the party on your way out, these rich fuckers won’t notice,”_ Benny had urged him once the delivery was done. _“You’ve got to see how the other side lives, dude. Steal a fancy hors d'oeuvre for compensation.”_

_“You still owe me a buck ninety for that ice, bro,”_ Eugene had shot back. An inside joke. He and Benny never paid each other back. They figured it’d even out close enough in the end.

Curiosity, though, had pulled Eugene out of the back room and into the ballroom. Benny was right, the rich fuckers lived in extravagance the rest of them couldn’t dream of. And all this for an 18th birthday party. Eugene had caught a glimpse of golden hair, heard pleasant but entirely insincere laughter.

Then the crowd had parted and shockingly blue eyes had met Eugene’s for a fraction of a second. And the prince had fallen, crumpling to the ground as if dead. The circle of people around him had erupted in screams which had spread fast across the entire ballroom.

Eugene hadn’t stuck around. The news was all over the story within the hour and it had been going all night. The Fated and their sleep, people always went crazy when one fell under. Coverage could last until they were woken if the Fated in question was a big enough deal.

The prince was. He wasn’t actually a prince, of course. Jesse Coste was just a Fated. But he was a well known and beloved one. An exceptionally beautiful and rich one. A prince in every way but for a missing crown.

“That’s gotta be some kind of record,” Benny said.

“Huh?” Eugene asked, his mind not in whatever conversation Benny was trying to have.

“Coste falling asleep on his eighteenth,” Benny said, exasperated and pointing to a newspaper with Jesse Coste’s dazzling smile on it.

Eugene kept walking. The entire world was abuzz with Coste’s sleep and, disquietingly, Eugene’s mind was too. He kept seeing the boy crumple, kept feeling it like a weight pulling _him_ down too. Kept seeing blue eyes every time he closed his own dark ones. Had Coste felt anything, Eugene wondered. Had he known he was about to fall? Had he felt it in the pit of his stomach like the moment before stepping off boulders into cool lake water? Or had it been like a switch flipped inside him? Instantaneous and undetectable? Eugene had never seen someone fall before. Most people didn’t ever see it because there were so few who fell and they were too important to mingle much among peasants. Eugene couldn’t have guessed that the experience would be so pervasive and entrancing.

“They think it is,” Eugene said. “A record. I heard on the radio this morning that his sleep came seven seconds after his officially recorded time of birth. Eighteen years, seven seconds old and already asleep. But that’s always shoddy, trying to calculate time so closely. Who knows if his time of birth was written down a little wrong, or if the sleep caught on cameras last night was accurately timed? But they think it’s a record.”

“Man, and I was _there,”_ Benny was starstruck. “Think they’ll interview me? Jesse Coste’s high profile. They might want any intel they can get.”

“Yeah, and you can tell them all about distributing crushed ice evenly over the fresh fish for the sushi,” Eugene snorted. Benny wasn’t deterred for long.

“Hey, maybe my team will get hired again for his Waking Nights. We did a good job at his party and we’re fresh on Robert Coste’s mind since it was just last night.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Eugene agreed absently. Waking Nights always gave Eugene the heebee-jeebees. The way they arranged the sleeper was too much like how they arranged the dead as far as Eugene was concerned. He wondered how the team in charge of Coste’s Waking Nights would arrange him. Had Coste even had time to organize his Waking Nights? When did the Fated start planning them? It was a right of passage meant to be completed the night before turning eighteen, but no one actually fell on their birthday. Except, of course, the prince. He was special in all things, even this.

Eugene hoped whoever was in charge of arranging the sleeping prince did so on a bed or table or even in a goddamn coffin. Much more tasteful than propping him up like a mannequin.

* * *

Jesse Coste’s first Waking Night took place in the same grand venue as his birthday party had. Eugene loitered outside, looking in at the bright lights. The line to get in was huge. Waking Nights were open to the public but there were procedures to getting in. The Fated had final say over _how_ open these nights were and it seemed as if security into the prince’s was pretty tight.

Eugene was turning to leave, hand in his pocket and wrapping around his keys when he saw Coste falling again in his mind’s eye. It nagged at Eugene how completely he’d fallen, no reservation, no care. Eugene had the idea to make sure the fall hadn’t broken him, hadn’t hurt him in any way. If Eugene could just see Jesse Coste alive and well, if asleep and stilled, then he could leave this weird anxiety behind. Seeing a Fated fall was just too close to watching someone die. That had to be it. His brain was confusing the two.

Benny’s team had been called to staff the event, just like he’d hoped. After running quick errands for Benny two nights in a row, Eugene knew that his crew taped over the back door’s lock set to keep it discreetly open. Not strictly up to code, but convenient. Sure enough, he was able to infiltrate the building easily. He slipped through the maze of hallways and back into the ballroom, staying in the shadows at the outskirts.

There, on a splendid chaise reminiscent of a grand coffin, was Jesse Coste. Beautiful and blond, eyes peacefully closed and hands clasped together on his chest over a fencing épée. Eugene had fenced épée in high school. How had he not known the beloved prince fenced too?

“See, there he is,” Eugene said to himself under his breath. “Not dead. Not broken. Just asleep.” And he’d wake again. Just as soon as his soulmate kissed him awake.

The Fated were the descendants of a species a step above regular humans, so the stories went. Individuals who were fated for greatness. And fated for each other. Usually, that was how it worked. Each Fated was born with their soul fated for someone else’s. A soulmate. And once they reached adulthood, they could fall at any point, the only way to wake them being a kiss from the love of their life. Fairytale stuff.

But looking at Jesse Coste laid out on that chaise like a fancy cake at a party, Eugene recalled stories of fallen Fated that had never been woken up. Soulmates weren’t always convenient. And they weren’t always found. Some that fell simply died, wasting away while their soul waited on their fated mate. They said every Fated secretly hoped to be the one of the pair who was burdened with the task of waking rather than the one who fell to sleep, but there was no way of knowing. Not until you either fell asleep or kissed someone awake.

Eugene was about as far from all of that as it was possible to get. He was no Fated, he was as normal as normal humans came. And he hadn’t ever hoped, the way some people did, that he was one of the rare exceptions who’d get a soulmate. The only way UnFated people got one was if they were one half of a Fated bond pair. But those were almost unheard of. Still, the _what if_ kept almost all Waking Nights open to the commoners. Nobody wanted to sleep forever.

Again, Eugene looked at the figure swathed tonight in deep blue and shining silver. He’d never cared one lick about Jesse Coste but tonight he found himself wishing those blue eyes would open and put his suit to shame with their vibrance. He was so young. Just a year younger than Eugene, really, but it seemed like so much more when he thought about how he had his entire life to live, contingent on nothing, and Jesse Coste might only have eighteen years and seven seconds.

Eugene tore his eyes away and then forced himself back through the halls and out the illegally taped door out into the night. Above him, the sky was dark blue and shining silver.

“Jesse Coste’s a goddamn prince,” Eugene told the sky. “No way is he getting unplugged, he’s as rich as they come. They’ll probably find his soulmate tonight.”

* * *

There would be a second Waking Night this evening. More Fated were pouring in for it. Jesse Coste was quite a catch and every one of them was hoping he was theirs. Fated only fell when both of the bond pair were of age so attendance was restricted to eighteen and older, with the Fated being given priority over the common people.

“This Waking Night gig is good business,” Benny said as Eugene helped him unload crates into the venue for tonight. “Maybe the Coste prince should take his time resting.”

“Do you remember that story last year?” Eugene grunted under the weight of his newest cargo. “About Rose Hughes?”

“The Fated that was let go after a twenty-three year sleep?”

“Yeah, that one.” At the time, Rose Hughes’ death hadn’t meant much to Eugene but now he kept thinking about it. “It’s expensive to keep someone who is essentially in a coma alive.”

“Didn’t they think her soulmate had died? That rockstar guy who was in the plane crash on his way to her Waking Night at the beginning?”

“That’s what they say.” Another danger of falling: if your soulmate died before waking you up, they took your life with them.

“You think Old Man Coste’s gonna pull the plug on the prince?”

“Nah,” Eugene said, Benny’s laugh somehow calming him. It _was_ ridiculous. Robert Coste could afford to keep his son alive for eighty years if he wanted to. And why wouldn’t he want to?

“I just hope he keeps up the Waking Nights for at least a month if Coste’s in it for the long sleep.”

“Good for business,” Eugene agreed. “And you owe me dinner for helping with this shit three nights now.”

“It’ll have to be a late one,” Benny warned.

“That’s fine, I’ll hang around here until you get off shift.”

It wasn’t long before people started lining up outside again, hoping to get in and snag a chance at waking Jesse Coste.

“It’s like, even if he’s _not_ my soulmate, a kiss is still a kiss,” one girl was saying to her friend. Eugene had heard at least five other people say similar things in the ten or so minutes he’d been out here catching a break from the bustle of the _behind the scenes_ action with Benny’s crew. It made him sick, hearing people talk about the poor guy like he was hardly even a real human. Kissing a sleeping person wasn’t something to brag about, that’s what Eugene had been taught by his Ma and he stood by that. But it was different for the Fated. The sleeping ones had to be kissed. It had just never occurred to Eugene how disturbing that was. The idea of a parade of people planting kiss after kiss on Coste’s lips and him never even knowing gave Eugene all sorts of feelings, from anger to revulsion to pity.

Unable to tune out the vapid chatter and unable to stomach it, he went back inside. Eugene wound through the halls, still avoiding the hubbub of Benny’s work. He didn’t mean to walk to the ballroom but he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. And Jesse Coste looked very much like a flame, adorned in gold. Waking Nights had to be pretty expensive. Eugene stayed in the shadows and no one questioned his presence. These events were open to the public. If you were let in, you must be allowed to be here, even if you weren’t dressed in your best like everyone else in the room.

Eugene lost track of time watching Jesse Coste. He didn’t move an inch. And he wasn’t touched by even a single person. A strong-jawed and strapping man with light blond hair and blue eyes stood guard over the chaise. Eugene hadn’t noticed him last night and it took him time to decipher what was happening tonight. Robert Coste seemed to be conducting some sort of interview or test, sending away every person who tried to get past him to kiss his son.

Waking Nights were hard to get into and there weren’t many Fated in these parts. Eugene had never seen a Waking Night first hand before, only heard and read about them like everyone else. They all went slightly differently, a mix of the fallen’s desires and what the family saw fit. But Eugene was pretty sure there was meant to be kissing at these things. Fallen Fated couldn’t wake up without kissing and waking up was the point of these nights.

“There you are,” Benny said. “I’m off, you ready for that dinner?”

“Yeah.” Eugene looked one more time at Coste before following Benny away from him.

* * *

The second, third, and fourth Waking Nights were every bit as unsuccessful as the first had been. Eugene went to each one. And then to the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh. Some nights, he lingered longer than others. But he couldn’t seem to stay away completely. He kept remembering bright blue eyes and limp limbs and Fated given up as lost causes and men and women lining up to get a chance at kissing Jesse Coste.

People were starting to talk now. Would Jesse Coste ever wake up, the public wondered, where was his soulmate? Fated were flocking in from farther and farther away. But Eugene was unconvinced a single one of them had been allowed past the acting dragon that was Robert Coste.

The waking Nights continued and Eugene always went, always checked to see the subtle rise and fall of chest that meant Coste was still alive, no matter what the panicky feeling tried to convince him when he thought too long about Rose Hughes or other forgotten Fated Eugene had looked up. He felt heavy going through his day, the only relief coming when he made sure the stupidly beautiful idol was alright.

“I didn’t know you were such a Jesse fanboy,” Benny teased him on the twelfth night when he, once again, had to peel Eugene out of the shadows so they could leave. “You’re more worried about the little prince than my sister is.”

“Not really,” Eugene brushed the accusation off. “The guy’s a douche. A pampered, spoiled, snobby little prince. Tabloids might exaggerate but I heard him laughing at his birthday party, right before he fell. Fakest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Ah, so you’re just here checking to see if he’s faking his sleep for attention, are you?”

“Hey, that’d be something. Maybe he’s not a Fated at all so they’ve put on this elaborate show of it and are just looking for the right person to tie a nice little bow around the whole thing.”

“I bet there’s a conspiracy theory about that already,” Benny laughed and they left.

Eugene looked it up later that night. It _was_ already a conspiracy theory. It had not gone unnoticed that twelve Waking Nights had passed and not a single person had been allowed to kiss the person in need of waking.

* * *

Jesse Coste was eighteen years, fourteen days, and approximately seven seconds old. Eight seconds. Nine. The clock ticked on. It _kept_ ticking on and it would keep ticking on. And Jesse didn’t stand a chance in hell of waking up to experience it as it did.

Benny was off tonight, his first night off since the Waking Night marathon. Jorge, Benny’s boss, was a friendly man and when he’d asked Eugene if he wanted some extra cash for picking up a shift tonight, Eugene had said yeah, why not? He was going to be here anyway and they all knew it.

Eugene didn’t do black tie so he was kept out of the way of watching eyes, but he stole peeks into the ballroom frequently, just to confirm that tonight was going as every night before it had gone. Each time he saw Robert Coste turn away another hopeful, Eugene felt something close to anger bubbling inside him.

Benny wasn’t here tonight to drag him away from this place the way he’d had to do for the last week, so Eugene offered to take a double shift. It was getting late now, down to the last hour of the event.

“Labao!” Jorge called and Eugene spun to answer. “Take this,” he shoved a flute of champagne into Eugene’s hand, “to Mr. Coste.”

“Me?” Eugene asked, looking down at his dark jeans and white button-down with the sleeves rolled messily up over his elbows. It was as fancy as he got and it wasn’t fancy enough to be delivering champagne to _Robert Coste_ , one of the most successful and wealthy Fated in the world.

“He wants it now and all my suits are busy. It’s either you or Frank.”

“Got it,” Eugene said with a salute.

For the first time since Jesse’s party, Eugene ventured onto the floor of the ballroom itself. Each step closer to the main attraction of the night and every night before it for a fortnight made him feel more and more strange. When he arrived, Mr. Coste looked to him with surprise.

“Your champagne, Sir,” Eugene offered the flute to him and his surprise faded somewhat as he took it. But he didn’t take a drink, turning back to scan the crowd of people that had come to try and wake his son. Another spike of anger hit Eugene and he was speaking before he had time to stop himself. “Don’t you want your son to wake up?”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Coste asked, taken aback. Eugene should have cringed at his outburst but he could practically feel Jesse Coste sleeping behind him.

“You’re not giving him a fair chance at finding his soulmate. If you play gatekeeper and turn away everyone _you_ see as unworthy or unfit, he’ll never wake up. It’s not your choice and you’re hurting his chances of waking up—of living—by trying to control who he loves before he even has an opportunity to love them.” His voice was steady and pleasant. Casual. But it was obviously an accusation. Hopefully, Mr. Coste would only fire Eugene for his impudence and leave Jorge, Benny, and the rest alone for this offense.

“What would you have me do?” Mr. Coste asked, as calm as Eugene. “Let every person in this room kiss him? And every other person that’s been in this room over these thirteen nights? Fated are not immune to cold sores or contagious diseases. It’s unsanitary and unethical to allow anyone who desires it touch Jesse.”

Eugene remembered the people in the line, all wanting to kiss Jesse so they could keep it as a trophy in their memories and brag about it to their friends. If _he_ were a Fated and fell asleep, Eugene wouldn’t want hundreds of people kissing him. But he wouldn’t want to sleep forever, either.

“There’s got to be a better way than this,” Eugene was frustrated, unable to come up with any right answers to the situation. “But he’s got no chance of living the rest of his life if you don’t let someone through eventually.” It was common practice, Eugene had read, to allow each Fated who attended a Waking Night to kiss the sleeping subject. Fated were somehow almost always perfectly crafted to fit with another Fated. That was the best way to find a soulmate. Assume, first and foremost, that the smaller population of Fated would hold the other half of the bond pair. “You haven’t even allowed any Fated near him.”

“No, I have not,” Mr. Coste agreed, examining his champagne for a moment before turning to face Eugene. “Do you really think I haven’t thought this through? Do you think I’m throwing these Waking Nights for fun without a plan? Do you think I don’t want my son to wake up? Do you really believe that?”

“I’m having a hard time coming up with an explanation for thirteen Waking Nights and zero attempts at waking.”

“Waking Nights are useful things. Most people don’t understand the half of it. Glamor and glitz. A showcase. But if I just wanted every eligible Fated to give it a go, why bother with the theatrics, hm? Why not have them come to my estates where Jesse can be comfortably situated with his IVs and nurses?”

Eugene had an answer to that but he wasn’t dumb enough to say it to Robert Coste. Judging by his amused smirk, Mr. Coste knew what Eugene was thinking anyway.

“It’s not to show off. I don’t need to show off. Waking Nights are for the public.”

“But you’re hardly letting the public in,” Eugene pointed out.

“No,” Mr. Coste agreed again. “I’m not. In fact, I don’t remember letting _you_ in.”

“I was told to bring you champagne.”

“This is the first night you’ve brought me champagne,” Mr. Coste said, swirling the flute in his hand idly. Eugene’s blood went cold at the implication. If he’d been seen loitering without an invite, why hadn’t Mr. Coste had him removed? “Soulmates are a serious matter,” he said. “Many don’t take the time to understand the nuances of the finding. They’re distracted by the show of it all, even the Fated. But did you know that the fallen isn’t the only one to exhibit signs? It’s a joint thing, bond pairs. When the souls are ready to bond, _both_ souls feel it. One falls asleep and the other yearns to wake it up. There’s a heaviness that sets into your bones when your soulmate falls asleep. A creeping dread. A _pull._ Do you know what that pull is towards?”

“The other soul?” Eugene guessed.

“Precisely so. Waking Nights are for the public, to offer a chance for any soul to be drawn here, no matter status. All I have to do to find my son’s other half is watch closely to those who come to the Waking Nights. And did you know that there is one young man who has come thirteen nights without fail to check on Jesse? _Just,”_ Mr. Coste tapped a finger against his glass, “the one. And he has, since the very first night, looked as though he cannot breathe properly until he’s made sure my son is still well. No, I don’t mean to keep Jesse from waking up but there’s no need to subject him to a thousand touches that will give him nothing. What is your name?”

“Eugene. Eugene Labao.” His mouth felt dry.

“Well, Eugene Labao,” Mr. Coste held out a hand with a smile that actually reached his eyes, “I’m Robert Coste, but as we’ll be family soon enough, please call me Robert.”

Eugene took the hand and shook it, not sure what else he _could_ do. When Robert stepped away, he gestured his hand at the chaise and Eugene couldn’t quite believe this was real. That he was really being asked to kiss Jesse Coste. That Robert really believed he’d wake up.

But it was true that a tightness in Eugene’s chest eased when he looked down at Jesse. From this close, it was easy to see he was only sleeping. His breathing was soft but even, his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly under close inspection, and even his skin was glowing and healthy. He was gorgeous, dressed tonight in white accented in gold. A sleeping prince.

Eugene heard the hush overcome the room as he took a step closer to Jesse. It was unavoidable. Now that he'd started toward Jesse, Eugene could no more stop himself from going to his side than he could stop breathing. Something in him tugged, fighting to be closer still. He leaned over and collected strands of perfect golden hair in his fingers. The last thirteen days had been heavy and bleak and full of worries he hadn’t understood but Jesse’s hair felt like sunshine in his hand.

Eugene bent farther, brushing his lips lightly against Jesse’s, unobtrusive and gentle as possible. When he pulled away, stunningly clear blue eyes were blinking back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh. this was supposed to live in my head but it escaped because it's shorter than the other soulmate au fuckery I have planned. I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading <33
> 
> Also, Happy 2020 y'all! It's gonna be a great year for us, I can feel it!


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time expanding a oneshot so that’s a pretty cool milestone i guess. honestly, i’m not surprised that it was for these two fuckers <3

“Finally,” the voice was soft but impassioned and it matched the smile that Jesse woke up to. He didn’t know the boy both voice and smile belonged to and he thought it a presumption for him to try and help when Jesse sat up.

It was probably a good thing this stranger had been presumptuous. Jesse felt strange and woozy when he tried to sit up and he’d have fallen right off the chaise if he hadn’t been caught and gently guided back down.

“Are you alright, bud?” The presumptuous boy asked. Jesse didn’t answer. Who was this? And where _was_ he? But he recognized the grand room and the buzzing crowd. His birthday party! Of course! He must have passed out.

Clarity flooded Jesse’s mind and his eyes snapped wide. Now that he was thinking straight, he could feel the épée folded neatly in his hands. A touch he’d insisted on for his Waking Night. But he’d never thought—he wasn’t _actually_ supposed to have a Waking Night at all. He’d only planned it for show. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

But he had to have fallen. That was the only explanation. Which meant…

“No,” Jesse hissed. _No, no, no._ There was no way.

“You were out for right about two weeks, you’ll feel better if you just take it slow.”

“No,” Jesse said again, stronger. “You _can’t_ be my soulmate.”

The other man looked so surprised that Jesse could almost convince himself that he was mistaken about all this. Bad enough to have fallen, but to wake up to this? Unthinkable. 

“And why not?” 

“Because you’re not Cordelia Lancaster.”

“Nope. I’m Eugene Labao.”

“There doesn’t happen to be a beautiful, diminutive Fated woman behind you, does there?”

“Nope,” he—Eugene—said again, a lazily amused smile fit on his face. “Unless she’s _so_ tiny that she’s invisible from the side, but I feel like that’s one of those unobtainable beauty standards, being that thin.”

“Then you must be a manservant to my future wife, who was in need of some fresh air after waking me.”

“Manservant? I’d be offended if we didn’t both know you’re just clutching at straws.”

“This cannot be happening.” Jesse felt faint. Or like throwing up. He put his épée down next to him and tried to sit up again. Again, Eugene reached for him as if he had any right. Jesse flushed in anger and shoved at him.

“Woah,” Eugene said, catching Jesse’s hands before they’d even planted on his shoulders to push him away. “I told you to take it easy, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Don’t touch me!” Jesse yanked at his hands but he didn’t feel right. How long had Eugene said he was out? Two weeks? It was disorienting to wake from long sleeps and two weeks wasn’t short. But he didn’t want Eugene’s help, so the instant his grip loosened, Jesse snapped away from it, planning to strike one freed hand across Eugene’s face. It was caught again.

“Jesse.” It was his father. Jesse pulled at his hand, but Dad’s hold was like a vice. “Behave yourself.” 

Now Jesse’s hand was released and he kept it to himself this time, realizing that slapping your soulmate was extremely poor form.

“Just don’t—,” Jesse snarled when he noticed Eugene’s hovering hands, ready to catch him if he fell, “touch me.” He really might be sick.

“I should have warned you,” Dad sighed, but not to Jesse, “that he can be…difficult.”

“Didn’t want to scare me away, I bet,” Eugene smiled again but this time it immediately rankled Jesse. This smile was at Jesse’s expense, he could feel it. He didn’t like, either, the way it had all been said without any concern. Like Eugene couldn’t care less about any of this. _He_ might not, but Jesse certainly did. His entire life was ruined. 

“You’re not even _Fated,”_ Jesse couldn’t help but feel gypped. Eugene wasn’t any of the things Jesse had dreamed of when he’d imagined his soulmate. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“We have a lot to discuss,” Dad said, “and it’s time we’re finished with your Waking Nights once and for all. Let Eugene help you to the car, Jesse.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Don’t make a scene. Eugene?”

Eugene looked from Jesse to his father and back again, eyebrows raised and mouth still quirked up to laugh quietly at Jesse. “Sure,” he said with a shrug and offered Jesse his arm.

“I was supposed to carry Cordelia out of her Waking Night. We talked about how heavy her gown could be.”

“Don’t have a gown and don’t like being carried,” Eugene said, even though Jesse hadn’t really been talking to him. “But I could carry you if you’d like?”

Jesse scowled but allowed Eugene to help him up, taking his arm when he was on his feet. Everyone in the ballroom had eyes glued to him and he cringed for them to see him on the arm of this nobody. But soulmates were unavoidable so all Jesse could do was smile at the crowd and lean a little more heavily on Eugene than he would have preferred, legs too wobbly to walk reliably without a little humiliating and unwanted help.

* * *

Jesse did not sit down in any of the comfortable and tastefully worn furniture of his father’s study. He leaned against the expensive mahogany desk instead. His father shook his head in resignation before exiting the room.

“Either he really missed me,” Jesse said, settling further against the fine desk, “or he’s decided that I’m someone else’s problem for the moment.” Dad loved his stupid desk and Jesse had been scolded more times than he could count for mistreating it. 

“At least you’re self-aware,” Eugene said, standing over by the globe and spinning it with vague interest as he spoke. When he looked to Jesse, it was with that infuriatingly good-humored and unconcerned smile. 

“It’s no secret that I hate this. Not to you, anyway.” Jesse’s lips turned down thinking about his image and all the ways he was expected to act the prince. Even if he hadn’t gotten his princess. “But if I’m a problem, you’re a disaster.”

Eugene pushed up his sleeves as if they weren’t already scrunched plenty far up his arms. And he laughed. 

“I don’t know what I expected.” Eugene’s continued smile irked at Jesse. He didn’t like being laughed at. Nor did he appreciate the sweep Eugene’s eyes made of him. “No, I guess this is about what I’d have expected. If I hadn’t been crazy on all that soul tugging shit.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s no secret you hate this. Not to me.” That smile, that shrug, that tone he’d used. Jesse didn’t miss the words underneath the ones Eugene had thrown back at him. “Tell me what the plan is about the rest of the world, though. I don’t really know how all this Fated mumbo jumbo works.” 

_Tell me what the plan is,_ Jesse thought in mockery. Like he’d just go along with whatever Jesse told him, like it didn’t bother him one way or the other what they did. Of course, Eugene couldn’t complain, could he? He looked like poorly dressed wait staff. Jesse might not have gotten a princess but this was a Cinderella story for his soulmate. 

“Soulmates are non-negotiable.” He hated having to say it but he knew it was true. “The public will want a love story from me which means you have to act accordingly.”

“Me? You’re the one that tried to hit me and almost had a meltdown in front of all your party guests.”

“I was rattled,” Jesse glared. Then exhaled a long breath, bringing a hand to rub at his temples. He knew he’d messed his waking up. Hopefully, no one had been able to clearly see how distressed he’d been. “I never expected to actually have my own Waking Night. All my planning but I _never—_ I did it wrong.” Clapping his hands together once sharply, Jesse shook off that worry for now. “It won’t be hard to recover,” he decided. “We’ll just have to make it work. Now tell me about my Waking Night.”

Eugene didn’t look impressed with his question but he did answer. “Nights. Plural. Thirteen of them and all as fancy as your birthday party.”

“What would you know about my party?” Jesse’s nose wrinkled of its own volition at the thought of having someone like _that_ on his guest list. “Oh, but you’d have heard about it from...” 

As he spoke, Jesse knew that wasn’t right. Eugene looked like part of the wait staff, maybe he really was. But Jesse remembered something now. Just barely. Right at the edge of his memory. Looking hard at Eugene, still lounging by the antique globe, he remembered the swell of music played to perfection and heard in every corner of the grand ballroom, he remembered the heat from all the people flitting all around him. He remembered the crowd shifting and deep brown eyes meeting his. With a shock, he remembered, too, the way the music had suddenly seemed to swell inside _him_ and then...

“I fell,” Jesse said, “I fell right after seeing you.”

“Like you’d died,” Eugene confirmed. He wasn’t smiling anymore and Jesse actually missed the annoying expression. This one, this serious intensity, was more unsettling. A prick of cold in his spine. 

“Don’t speak like that,” he muttered, looking down at his hand braced against the mahogany desk. “It’s bad luck to compare falling to death.”

“Did you know? That you were about to fall? Could you feel it?”

Jesse shook his head. “I don’t think so. I saw you and there was something strange about it but,” Jesse shook his head again, “that’s not how it works. You don’t fall when you see your soulmate for the first time after coming of age.” Inspiration struck him in a flash. “But we could make that be how it worked for us. Imagine,” he told Eugene, “a moment of connection before a fall, an instant of _knowing_ between two soulmates. The public will _love_ that. We’ll have to work on our story, to make sure it all lines up—What?” He demanded at Eugene’s raised eyebrows. 

“Get our story straight? Over something that actually happened? To an extent, anyway.”

"Yes, get our story straight. Spin it with the right emotions, the right tone, the right embellishment.”

"I don’t like lying.”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it,” Jesse told him impatiently. “This whole thing will be a lie put on for the rest of the world, I thought you got that.”

“Is that all you care about? How the public sees you?”

“It’s important to maintain a good image. It won’t be fun fitting you into it, but we’ll make it work.”

“And by _make it work,_ you mean…?”

“Lying about us being madly in love, of course.”

“Of course,” Eugene repeated, slow and smiling. 

“I like girls,” Jesse said bluntly.

“Yeah? Well, _I_ like nice people.”

“I’m nice,” Jesse snapped.

“Are you? Nothing I’ve heard about you or seen of you has given me that impression literally at all.”

“So not only did you kiss me without my consent—,”

“Hey! It’s not my fault your whole fucking species is fucked up and needs to be fucking woken up from eternal slumber with kisses of dubious consent—,”

“—but you don’t even _like_ me!”

“I’m sorry, did you want me to wait to kiss you back to life until I’d fallen in love with you? Because I can promise you that’d never have happened, bud.”

“Everybody loves me.”

“Does anybody actually know you? Man, you’re fake as hell.”

“You’ve known me an hour, excuse me if I don’t put too much stock in your opinion of me.”

Eugene was about to quip back but he changed course and shrugged instead. 

“Just tell me how our love story goes and I’ll go with it.” Again with that nonchalance. 

“It was supposed to be mine and Cordelia’s love story,” Jesse lashed in irritation at how unperturbed Eugene was. 

“So you’ve said. Were you guys dating?” Eugene must have sensed Jesse’s indignation because he corrected himself before Jesse had time to snap again. “Sorry, courting?”

“Since we were thirteen.” 

“You had to have known it was statistically unlikely you’d be soulmates.”

“We were _perfect_ for each other.” They’d looked so good together, fit so well. The public loved them—had been rooting for them for years. He could only imagine the disappointment over the truth. “Did she try waking me?”

“No. No one did. Your dad wouldn’t let anyone near you.”

“Except for you,” Jesse said disdainfully. What had Dad been thinking?

“Except for me.” Was it Jesse’s imagination or did Eugene look the tiniest bit pleased over that? 

“And now I’m doomed to a loveless marriage. Wonderful.”

Eugene regarded him curiously. “Did you love Cordelia?”

“Not exactly. But I was planning to.”

“That’s a good joke. Damn, you Fated really are a strange bunch. Guess it’s to be expected you’re weird about romance when you don’t know when your one true love will pop up.”

Jesse grimaced at the title. _One true love_. “I’m not gay,” he repeated, just in case Eugene had missed that. 

“Me either.”

Jesse was surprised to hear it. A little relieved, too. Surely, if neither of them was gay, that was proof that this whole thing was somehow a mistake. 

“I’m a certified bisexual. But I can’t say you’re my type even so.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m everyone’s type.” He wasn’t lovingly called The Prince for nothing. “And you’ll act enamored with me whenever we’re out in public together. Which we will have to be. Dates. As we have no previous acquaintance, we’ll proceed as if courting. You’ll come to my estates several times a week for intimate get-togethers and I’ll plan public events for us as well. In a year, you may propose to me and I will accept.” Jesse felt a headache knocking at his brain. “I’ll have to start from scratch,” he muttered. All those years with Cordelia were worthless to him now.

“Why can’t you propose?”

“How common _are_ you? It’s customary for the waker to propose to the fallen.”

"Is it?”

Jesse didn’t have patience for his ignorance. Simple customs like that were public knowledge. Eugene had no excuse for not knowing of it other than not caring. And, Jesse thought as he watched Eugene idly spin the globe again, not caring seemed to be something of a theme with his ill-suited soulmate. 

“Yes.”

“Any other cult rituals I need to be aware of?”

“We’re done for tonight.”

* * *

Jesse didn’t sleep after Eugene left. He soaked in the bath with his favorite rose-scented candle burning and caught up on the last two weeks of his life. There was a grainy video of his fall and an avalanche of stories about how fast he’d fallen to accompany every appearance of it, footage of the Waking Nights, and even a dozen different videos of his waking. Luckily, his disorientation upon waking looked just like that: disorientation and poor balance, nothing more. It looked like Eugene had just been helping him rather than restraining him from shoving. 

Furthermore, Eugene was right. Dad had turned every single person away when they’d approached to try their luck. There was another pattern Jesse started to pick out through all the professional coverage and candid videos. In the corner of frames and between sweeps of cameras, there was often a figure lurking in the shadows. Jesse wouldn’t have noticed it if he didn’t have such a fresh memory of seeing that same boy in the midsts of a crowd in that same room. Eugene. Jesse was sure it was him, was sure he was there somewhere even when the cameras never caught him. What was it he’d said tonight? Something about _that soul tugging shit._

It could be used to build their story. And the fact that Jesse had locked eyes with Eugene just before falling? That was pure gold. The biggest problem was Eugene. The rest of the story was perfect. If it had just been Cordelia instead... 

They’d hoped it would be her falling but they’d briefly planned for it the other way too. This way. Only, she wasn’t the one that had woken him. She was probably pissed about it. Cordelia wasn’t the only one, and neither was he. It was as he’d predicted, a lot of people had been watching their romance for years, waiting for it to grow. But it hadn’t grown at all.

Jesse discarded his phone and sunk down into the huge basin of his tub, eyes closing and head dipping under into the blissful silence. His head was spinning with all the videos and articles and blogs. It wouldn’t be easy to make Eugene as beloved by his side as Cordelia had been. Already, people had dug up as much as they could about who he was and the reception was mixed. 

Unbidden, Jesse’s mind slipped to the kiss he hadn’t been awake to experience, but which he had watched upwards of two dozen times from different vantages. Briefly, he imagined it from his vantage, Eugene leaning down, his fingers brushing so softly through hair that you’d think he really treasured Jesse, lips that were probably warm pressing carefully to his for only a moment. Only enough to wake him up. _“Finally,”_ he’d said as if he’d been waiting a hundred years to speak with Jesse. 

Then Jesse thought of Eugene’s lethargic smile and he exploded above the surface again, hair dripping down his face. Jesse wasn’t gay. He didn’t like boys. He especially couldn’t like Eugene. 

* * *

“Have soulmates ever been wrong?” Jesse asked the next day over breakfast. Dad looked up at him over the newspaper. Jesse was satisfied to see that _he_ was on the front page, above the fold. In the middle of a kiss from Eugene, but still.

“No.”

“Surely there’s been some special cases?”

Dad folded the paper and put it aside, serious as he leaned in. “There have been plenty who questioned it but soulmates don’t lie. You and I were fated for one love and one love only. A great love. Fighting it will only make it difficult on you and your soulmate. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Jesse repeated. Prompted. The way Dad had said it...

“I questioned it too when I woke your mother.” 

This wasn’t a topic they talked about. Mom had passed when Jesse was little and it pained Dad to talk too much of her. Jesse had never dared ask about their love story from the source, though he’d read up on it. A standard story, as far as Fated went. This wasn’t what he’d expected. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I was convinced of my love for another. I only went to the Waking Night as a courtesy. When she actually woke up...” Dad sighed, a hand running down his face. This looked like it pained him in a different way than thoughts of Mom usually did. 

“What did you do?”

“I resented her for waking. And I insisted to myself that there had been a mistake. I’d already found the woman I loved, or so I thought. And I wasn’t willing to give that up. I thought for the better part of three years that I could get out of having a soulmate. But I fell in love with your mother as truly as everyone had assured me I would. And all my questioning and fighting out of the eye of the public, it hurt people. So trust me and trust your fate. It’s not wrong.”

Jesse bit his lip. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. There was a knock on the door before Jesse could ask to hear any more, no matter how little he thought he’d like it. 

“That will be your suitor,” Dad said, flipping out his paper again. “Go tend to him.”

Jesse departed the table with a screech of his chair so Dad knew how unhappy he was about the whole situation. 

“Hey,” Eugene greeted when he opened the door. “What’s the plan for today?”

“A turn around the gardens followed by a light brunch, over which I will fill you in on all the specifics of our love.”

* * *

Eugene laughed a lot. He smiled even more. Jesse watched and listened to each one, trying to understand the point of it all. So many of them seemed to be laughing at Jesse, sometimes, though, they seemed to be laughing with him. Including him in some joke he didn’t always understand. Mostly, he just seemed happy. Genuinely happy. Genuinely genuine, too. Nice. Eugene was nice. 

Jesse still didn’t like him. He liked Eugene better than he had a month ago but not by much. Too many of those lazy grins and chuckles felt like they were making a mockery of him—or else dismissing him—for Jesse’s fondness to grow too much. And Eugene was still the man that had uprooted Jesse’s plans. His life. His happily ever after. 

“I’ve adhered to your rules and memorized your scripts and played my part,” Eugene told him during their customary walk through the gardens. “But can’t we have some fun?”

"I’m sure I don’t want whatever fun you’re talking about.”

Eugene laughed. Light and breezy and utterly dismissive. 

“It’s my friend Benny’s birthday tonight. Come with me to the party.”

“A party for commoners is hardly suitable for someone of my stature.”

Another laugh. This one, Jesse recognized easily and knew well. It was the laugh Eugene always gave when he thought Jesse was being _uppity._

“All my friends are commoners so you’ll have to get used to them eventually. And make room for them at our wedding.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Of what? That I’m an UnFated or that you’ll have to lower yourself and marry me eventually?” It was said with another smile, turning the self-deprecating words into an insult to Jesse. 

“Both,” Jesse seethed. 

“I’ll do an interview with you, a real proper one instead of route answers to reporters and nosy busybodies that corner me. Just come to the party.”

“Why? I can’t think of a single reason you’d want me at a party with your actual friends, especially since I don’t want to go.”

“Your style of courting is so stuffy. I feel like I’m in a Jane Austen theme park with all the garden strolls and tea parties and awful clothes you make me wear. It’s only fair you step into my world a little bit too.”

“This isn’t true courting. We’re not meant to like it, it’s all for show. As we aren’t actually looking to like each other, I don’t see the point in subjecting myself to—hey! Don’t pick that.” 

Eugene didn’t heed him and neatly sliced through the stem of a rose with his pocket knife. Idly, he started stripping off the thorns. 

“My friends want to meet you, knucklehead,” he said lightly. “They’ll think it’s strange if I don’t eventually bring around the love of my life. And some of them are damn nosy.”

Shit. Eugene was right. He knew it, too, because he grinned up at Jesse, flicking closed his knife and returning it to his pocket. 

“I’ll arrange a proper interview for us.”

“Perfect,” Eugene smiled, sliding the pink rose behind Jesse’s ear. “I’ll pick you up at six, my prince.”

Jesse was rooted to the spot, too baffled to follow after Eugene. Not that it mattered, their morning appointment was at its end and Eugene knew the way out. Instead of doing something embarrassing like catching up to Eugene to bid him farewell as curtesy would dictate, Jesse retired immediately to his rooms. 

In the grand full-length mirror there, he saw Eugene’s gift tucked prettily in his hair and was dissatisfied to find the pinkness of the rose displayed across his cheeks. 

* * *

Eugene refused to take a chauffeur to his party so Jesse was forced into his warthog of a car. He slammed the door to make sure it was clear he was displeased with every aspect of this outing. 

His displeasure only grew when Eugene led him into a strange smelling building lit up with neon lights and towards a rowdy group of people standing about inside the lobby. 

“Eugene!” One of the people exclaimed. “You made it! And you even brought your prince!”

Jesse tried to hide his discomfort at the way Eugene’s arm slid around his side to give him a brief squeeze. 

“I told you I would.” And then Eugene abandoned his hold on Jesse to hug the beaming man that had spoken. “Happy birthday, bud.”

“Thanks, dude.” The two fell apart with lots of shoulder patting. That must be Benny, then. The birthday boy. Jesse wasn’t impressed. His hair was too long, too curly. And his sense of fashion was terrible. 

Eugene did a rundown of introductions and Jesse charmed each one as he shook their hand and exchanged small pleasantries. A lot of them, particularly the girls, seemed awed by him. His fans, no doubt. 

“I chose codenames for everyone already,” Benny told them, passing some sort of card to Jesse and Eugene. “And it’s us up next.”

“What, exactly, is a _laser quest?”_ Jesse hissed to Eugene as the others filed after an employee that had called for them. He was repeating the name of the bright and blinking sign he’d seen on the way in. 

“Laser tag,” Eugene said, surprised at first that Jesse hadn’t intuitively known that. And then he was smiling again. “But I guess this is a peasant’s idea of fun. You probably go jousting on horseback for fun.”

In the dark room they were taken to, Eugene hoisted a terrible vest thing onto Jesse’s shoulders. 

“These don’t seem overly sanitary,” Jesse complained and heard snickering from more than just Eugene. He flushed, annoyed at being the butt of a joke, even worse that he’d set it up himself. 

“You’ll have fun,” Eugene promised, taking the plastic card Benny had given him and slapping it to his chest against the heavy vest. The vest pinged and Eugene repeated the process with his own card and vest. When his pinged, a screen on his chest lit up with blocky green letters. _The Jock._

Jesse looked down as Eugene discarded their cards, finding that he’d been labeled _The Prince._ He wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or a mockery or nothing more than an allusion to the nickname the media and his fans had bestowed upon him years ago. 

The rules of the game seemed simple enough. Shoot, don’t get shot. If you get shot, your shooting ability goes temporarily offline. Covering the sensors on your vest was foul play. Points were tracked. That part, at least, interested Jesse. 

The room they were let into was dark and the air was muggy with fog, flavoring each breath Jesse took with a heady thickness. He felt a squeeze at his shoulder as a buzzer went off to indicate the game was starting. 

“Good luck,” Eugene whispered in his ear. And then he was gone and Jesse was left alone to weave through the maze, lit strangely with neon lights and adorned with even stranger mirrors. 

Someone jumped out at him around a corner and Jesse’s first—ridiculous—instinct was to thrust into a lunge. He pulled the trigger instead, to much better results. There was a rush of satisfaction at the ridiculous sound effect the gun blared when he did, and even greater satisfaction in the groan of his would-be assailant. 

Jesse liked being good at things. He liked winning. And he found that laser tag wasn’t so bad, if only because he was rather good at it. He’d only been shot once—by _The Birthday Boy_ himself and planned to get revenge for it. Sneaking up behind Benny’s curly hair, Jesse shot him square in the back, right at the sensor. Benny swore and whipped around with a groan as he saw Jesse looming over him. 

“I thought I was hidden!” 

“Not well enough,” Jesse shrugged. 

“I can see why Eugene likes you,” Benny laughed. “You’re vicious, aren’t you?”

Jesse was unsure what to do with either statement. 

“Come and join me, it’s a good spot and there’s room for two.”

“So you can shoot me when you regain the ability to do so? Not likely.”

“I won’t!” Benny said, carelessly discarding his weapon to the floor where he crouched. His easy and cheery demeanor made it clear to Jesse why Eugene liked _him._ “I’ve been dying to talk with the love of our Eugene’s life but he’s been stingy with you.”

“He’s only known me a month,” Jesse frowned. Checking around for sneaking opportunists, Jesse settled next to Benny for cover. He was quick enough to shoot first even if Benny went for the gun. And it was a clever hidey-hole that Benny had found. 

“So?”

“So it’s not as if he loves me. Yet,” Jesse tacked on clumsily, remembering that Eugene was meant to love him and that Jesse needed everyone to think that was how he wanted it. 

“I don’t know about that,” Benny said conspiratorially. “You should’ve seen him at your Waking Nights. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you if he got anywhere near the building. And he couldn’t stay away from the building. I had to drag him out some nights.”

It was as Jesse had assumed from the blurry glimpses he’d caught in videos. Jesse didn’t need Benny to confirm it, either, just as he hadn’t needed Dad to confirm it when he’d demanded an explanation for why Cordelia hadn’t been allowed a kiss. 

_I knew from the way Eugene looked at you that you were fated for him, not Cordelia. He checked on you every night without fail. Why would I give false chances when I could see the truth?_

And now here Benny was telling him again of Eugene’s persistent visitations. It always made Jesse feel strange to hear it aloud, an odd shiver and a twinge of discomfort at the idea of Eugene’s devotion to him, a total stranger. 

“He was weird the whole time you were asleep. I thought he was hung up about it because he saw you fall and all, but he was seriously worried. Kinda like when his little brother’s appendix burst last year, he hardly left the hospital then. I shoulda guessed something was up.”

“Not really. It’s too rare for UnFated to have soulmates for that to have reasonably occurred to either of you.”

“Maybe. Whatever, I still say he’s been stingy with you. You should hang with us some more, Eugene’s got no reason to worry about you anymore.”

Benny’s vest lit up as it emitted another round of wailing for being shot. 

“Nothing to worry about besides my dumbass friend ferreting my guy away to a secluded corner,” Eugene thundered above them in good humor. 

Benny’s hands were in the air, his mouth turned up in a laugh. “Whatever, he’s all yours.” Standing, Benny retrieved his temporarily useless gun and brandished it between Jesse and Eugene. “You two are quite a pair.”

Before Jesse could straighten himself out, Eugene had taken Benny’s place beside him, a hand absently resting at his back. Jesse would have shrugged it off but Eugene’s hand would be blocking the back sensor. Illegally and likely unintentionally, but it was an advantage and Jesse wasn’t technically breaking the rules by covering it himself. 

“Your _guy?”_ Jesse asked shrewdly. “Is that what I am?”

“I don’t know what else to call you. You said we were courting and I know that shit’s different from dating so I can’t call you my boyfriend. And I haven’t proposed so you’re not my fiancé.”

“I’m your soulmate,” Jesse said, relatively painlessly for once. “You may call me that.” 

Eugene made a face, which set Jesse in a bad mood. 

“That’s not my world. That’s Fated stuff and it’s weird to me, just throwing out words like that. I wasn’t supposed to have a soulmate, a month isn’t enough time to adjust to having you right in front of me with such a huge word attached.”

“You’ve used it before.”

“Not to Benny in casual conversation and with you right there instead of as an abstract idea. You don’t get it since you were raised in it but...it’s like, soulmates are love incarnate. And you’re _my_ love incarnate.”

Jesse was glad for the dark and the strange casting of lights around them. 

“Don’t say it like that,” he warned, refusing to look at Eugene. “I don’t feel that way for you at all.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Soulmate is a weighty word to us UnFated. Give me a minute to adjust to it, yeah?”

“It’s a weighty word to Fated too.” It was just easier to forget about it since it was a word—a reality—Jesse had been expecting all his life. 

“So what may I call you when _soulmate_ is too heavy?”

“Jesse.”

“My Jesse?” Eugene asked, one of his stupidly short eyebrows raising high, a corner of his mouth accompanying its ascent. The dark couldn’t possibly be enough to disguise Jesse’s face from Eugene’s sight this time. “Alright, then, my Jesse, what do you say we team up?”

“It’s not a team game.”

“So?”

"How do I know you won’t betray me?”

“I didn’t shoot you, did I?”

That was true enough. And Eugene would certainly have had time to shoot him after shooting Benny. Plenty of opportunities to while they talked. 

“Tell me, what would teaming up look like?”

Eugene grinned, teeth gleaming white in the bouncing black lights.“Let me show you.”

* * *

“And one last question before we close,” Lorraine Whittaker beamed as she leaned towards Jesse and Eugene as if in relaxed conversation with them. The interview had been long but Whittaker was the best—if Jesse was only allowed one interview, hers was the show to be on. And she’d been hungry for the chance at them. “Eugene, tell us about the first time you saw your prince. We’re all dying to know what you thought. Love at first sight, perhaps?” Whittaker laughed pleasantly. Eugene joined in easily. He’d done well so far. There was no reason to believe he wouldn’t finish strong.

_Come on, Eugene, we went over our story. You’ve got this._ Jesse willed Eugene to answer the question appropriately. As if hearing the plea, Eugene’s hand found Jesse’s—the first time it had ever done so—and squeezed in reassurance. Or in play-acting. 

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” Eugene told Whittaker. “I don’t remember the first time I saw Jesse—on TV or a magazine or the newspaper, who knows? It wasn’t love at first sight, sorry to say. I’m sure it will disappoint you to hear it, but I didn’t spend years with some fanciful celebrity crush on our prince. I never got too invested in any Fated business, truth be told.”

“You’re right, that answer was a disappointment,” Whittaker teased. “Let’s hear one of the others.”

“When I first saw Jesse—really and honestly saw him—it was his eyes that captured me. Haunted me, even.”

Jesse had to admit it was nicely played. The live audience tittered and Whittaker looked intrigued. Excited. 

“His eyes,” she repeated carefully. “You met him before he fell?”

They hadn’t disclosed their full story yet. Jesse had wanted to be the one to handle it but this was a good opportunity for it. His hand was still in Eugene’s. He’d have to put his trust there too. But if Eugene messed this up, Jesse was already spinning fixes in his mind. 

“Met?” Eugene chuckled softly, the sound somehow humble. As if the thought of him meeting Jesse was ludicrous and fanciful. “No. I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I locked eyes with my prince across a crowded room and, in the same second, he fell. But that small look was enough to guarantee I’d be, I’ll admit it, obsessed with seeing those eyes again.”

Eugene didn’t say it to Whittaker. That last sentence had been all for Jesse, said with a gaze Jesse couldn’t break. Was it true? Did Eugene actually think his eyes something special or was it embellishment to their story? 

_Does it matter?_ Jesse asked himself impatiently. No. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

“Go on,” Whittaker prompted eagerly, capturing a gossip’s playful delight in her push. “We’re dying to hear the rest of your answers, Eugene.”

“The first time I saw Jesse settled into his sleep was at his first Waking Night. I snuck in, more or less. What I felt then is easy—worry. And relief. I’m no Fated, my people don’t just keel over at parties like that, not unless something in them is real wrong. Seeing Jesse whole and unbroken was a breath of air. And seeing him arranged to perfection and his eyes closed with no promise of ever opening again was a punch to the gut that took all that breath right back outta me.”

The audience was Eugene’s, completely rapt and hanging on the edge of their seats. The cadence of his voice had a way of perfectly capturing the story and sharing it with everyone here. 

“I attended every single Waking Night. I had to see him to be sure he was alright. So every night, I came back.”

Here it was again, the confirmation that Eugene had attended each Waking Night. It was stranger still to hear the admission from Eugene, who was ceaselessly blasé about this all. And yet, for all his carefree attitude, he’d made sure to come thirteen nights in a row to see Jesse, perfect stranger though he’d been. It was disorienting to reconcile all the mocking smiles with the intent determination Jesse hadn’t been awake to witness. 

More disorienting by far was the slow realization that washed over Jesse after Eugene’s account of his attendance. Jesse had never doubted that Eugene had been there each night. More than never doubting it, he’d assumed it. Been so sure of it that he’d subconsciously searched footage for Eugene’s presence and picked it out in blurry, insubstantial images that had convinced him of the truth of it. He’d _known_ Eugene had been as near by his side the entire time he’d been able. Was it possible that Jesse had been able to feel Eugene each night even while he slept, blissfully unaware of who his soulmate was? Or was he just terribly full of himself, assuming that _of course_ Eugene had needed to see him every night?

“And then, you stoke a kiss,” Whittaker was as captivated as the rest. Jesse knew they were running over their time, pushing back the next segment. Unheard of on Whittaker’s show but she wasn’t hurrying Eugene to the end of his story. 

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose I did. I had Robert’s full blessing but, of course, I couldn’t ask Jesse.”

“And he opened his eyes.”

Eugene smiled, open and genuine, slipping again to look at Jesse as if he couldn’t help himself. 

“Yeah. And when he did, when I saw my Jesse’s eyes again, all I could think was _finally.”_

Jesse stared at Eugene in surprise. He remembered that. It was the first thing Jesse had heard when he’d woken. The first thing Eugene had ever said to him. _Finally._ It was startling to find that truth here, in the middle of this story spun for the public’s benefit. 

Whittaker let the hush of the moment stretch long and poignant. “Is that your final answer?” She asked at last. 

“We don’t have the time to touch on what I thought after first talking to Jesse,” Eugene’s laugh promised a good story there. “So, Lorraine, let me just finish up by saying this: I’m afraid I didn’t fall in love with Jesse at first sight. But when he first saw me, that’s got to be when I started falling.”

“And yet, I’m the one who actually fell,” Jesse quipped. He wasn’t sure why he’d said it but the audience loved it. The audience loved it all, and so did Whittaker. She closed the segment with warm handshakes and a warmer smile, insisting that they had to come back on sometime. Jesse was already wondering how he could persuade Eugene that they should. Not too soon, though. They’d leave time for people to obsess with the pieces of love story they’d left here today, give them time to discover they absolutely needed more of it. And then, Jesse would find a way to make sure they got it.

Jesse was handed his phone as soon as he stepped off-camera, not waiting until they made it to the car to begin his research.

“Woah,” Eugene said, snagging Jesse’s arm and pulling him out of the way of a group of techs he’d nearly run into. “Pay attention to where you’re walking.”

“Everyone else can pay attention and get out of my way,” Jesse retorted, not looking up from his phone. Eugene snatched him again.

“One, they shouldn’t have to. And two, tables can’t move out of your way.” Eugene didn’t let go of Jesse this time and Jesse let Eugene guide him out to their waiting car.

“You did it,” Jesse said when Eugene ducked into the car after him and closed the door.

“What? Got you here without any injury to yourself or any of the poor people you tried to run over?”

“What? Oh. No, not that. I mean, you did great on the show today. Public opinion has turned already. I think we can really pull this off if we keep up like this. People might even love you as much as they loved Cordelia.” Jesse frowned. That wouldn’t do. “With proper work, they’ll love you _more_ than her. You’re my soulmate, after all, obviously we can’t have your reputation second to anyone’s but mine. And that was clever, your story at the end there. The rhetoric was brilliant—the progression of calling me _our prince_ all the way to _my Jesse,_ very nicely done. If I’d known you were so adept at public speaking, I’d have put your charm to work weeks ago.”

Eugene didn’t look impressed. He looked a little disgusted, honestly. The same way he always did when Jesse started talking about image and public reception to him. But today, Jesse refused to feel the sting of heat in his cheeks from Eugene’s judgment. Today, they’d done a good job convincing everyone they were in love and their coupledom was something worth loving. Today had been a good day and Eugene could think him as shallow as he wanted. Jesse didn’t care.

* * *

People couldn’t get enough of Eugene. After their interview, everyone was taken by Eugene’s personality in action. Before, reactions to him had been tepid at best. Pictures and basic facts had been passed around and everyone had agreed that he was handsome, that he seemed like a good guy, they liked that he pet dogs and played with his little siblings and had led his fencing team to victory his senior year of high school. But now that there was live footage of him? Of him talking adoringly of Jesse and holding his hand and looking into his eyes and saying _finally?_

Suddenly, everyone was swooning over his jock charm and his wide smiles. Suddenly, everyone seemed much more willing to accept him and Jesse as a bond pair.

Jesse rose from his seat when he heard a knock at the door. It was late. And a school night. Eugene might not have class until noon tomorrow, but Jesse still had a semester left in high school, he had to be up early and Eugene should know better by now than to come so late. In fact, he should know better than to come at all unless during their scheduled dates. But, recently, he’d taken to showing up randomly like this.

Jesse swung open the door, ready to give Eugene a scolding and reinstate some boundaries. Perhaps a reminder, as well, that Jesse didn’t like him. But it wasn’t Eugene that Jesse opened the door to.

“Cordelia,” Jesse said in surprise, stepping back immediately to allow her entry.

“I trust you’ve been well.”

“Entirely. Better now, for seeing you.”

“Such a talker,” Cordelia smiled slyly, floating into his living room and sitting in front of his physics homework and tea. “But this is the first time I’ve seen you since your Waking Night, so forgive me for taking your talk for nothing more than just that.”

“We have both been rather preoccupied lately,” Jesse agreed, sitting beside her. He’d offer her tea but she’d already helped herself to his.

“Quite. Busy adjusting to the realities of life now that the fantasies are all but ruined.”

Jesse detected an edge to her words. An accusation. He sighed and dropped the formalities.

“And I suppose you’re mad at me for that? For falling and waking to a kiss that wasn’t yours? It’s not _my_ fault we’re not soulmates. I hoped for it as much as you did.”

“You’ve been too busy with your UnFated soulmate to even call in and say hello.”

“And you’ve been too busy with Cooper Chandler to call in until now,” Jesse returned meaningfully. Cordelia was in the middle of causing something of a scandal. A sensation, to be sure, that was overshadowed only by Jesse’s own love life.

“And what did you expect me to do? I wasted years on you Jesse—,”

“Any years wasted were mutual.”

“When you woke up to some nobody, I was humiliated. Everyone wanted it to be us. You and me. But that’s ruined now so why shouldn’t I have some fun?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been having a terrible amount of fun. Why Chandler, Cordelia? He’s got a reputation.”

“Maybe I needed one after you. A change. Five years with you and never so much as a kiss. And now you’ve got someone to kiss, don’t you? Maybe I wanted that too.”

“But he’s not your soulmate,” Jesse couldn’t help the judgment.

“He could be.”

“If that’s what you want, then I’m happy for you.”

“I want _you,_ Jesse. I only ever wanted you.”

Jesse grimaced. It was no good to talk like that. Just as it had been no good when she’d pushed before for more than he’d wanted to give. _We’re soulmates, I know it,_ she used to tell him, _I can feel it._ Jesse knew it had always scorned her that he’d been unwilling to bend his principles to allow a kiss between them.

Fated didn’t date. They courted. They spent time together, went on dates, got to know one another. But their relationships were never physical. You were meant to share yourself only with the one you were destined for. The one fated to know and love you for everything you were. Kisses outside of bond pairs were only permissible at Waking Nights in the attempt to wake a fallen Fated. Cordelia had never been fond of that particular societal expectation. And she’d finally gotten her fill of breaking it. With Cooper Chandler, a Fated their age who’d once dated a commoner for a month for fun and kissed her in the streets. And now he was dating Cordelia.

“I want you to be happy, Cordelia,” Jesse repeated.

“You deserve to be happy, too, Jesse.”

* * *

Applesandbananas747 GUYS look at this photo one of my friends shared on Facebook! I canNOT believe she met Jesse Coste omg I’m so jealous but LOOK at how happy Jesse is here!!!! The way he’s looking at Eugene—I bet Jesse just told Eugene some evil plot to win them the game with the way Eugene’s laughing and Jesse’s smirking! I just love this picture so much, it’s so candid and real and ugh I’m in love. But what I love about Eugene (besides the obvious, I mean COME ON, _look_ at him) is how he humanizes Jesse. Like. Laser tag?? That’s so not Jesse but look how much fun he’s having doing something so normal and common. I think Eugene’s really good for him #Jesse Coste/Eugene Labao #Fated affairs #Jesse Coste #Eugene Labao #i just had to share #do you see where their shoulders are pressed up against each other??? I’m dead they’re perfect 3,747,999 notes

“What are you smiling at?” Eugene asked. Jesse slid the computer across the table so that he could see for himself. He didn’t seem to get it, though, brow furrowing as he looked up at Jesse again.

“Before you get up in arms about your privacy again, the picture was already shared publicly.”

“In a private album and buried in with the rest of the photos from that night that Kasey finally got around to posting. But,” he held up a hand before Jesse could deliver more points, “I don’t really care about that. Why are you so happy over this?”

“Did you look at the notes? It’s spreading like wildfire and people love you more than ever.”

"Which is good for your image. Gotcha.”

“Don’t give me that, I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”

“Right. Well, did you want to get going or am I supposed to sit here another half hour while you browse Tumblr for posts about us?”

“It was sourced in an article I was reading,” Jesse protested defensively. “Photo credit.”

“It’s Kasey’s photo.”

“Yes, alright, let’s go. Where did you say you’re taking me today?”

“Just out,” Eugene said, closing Jesse’s laptop as he stood and waited for Jesse to do the same.

_Just out_ turned out to mean all over the place. A lot of walking was involved and Jesse didn’t understand why they couldn’t have just stayed and walked the grounds if that was what Eugene wanted to do. But Eugene eventually listened to his complaints and took him to a little tea shop that was actually quite nice. 

“It’s a great day, sunny and warm,” Eugene said, tugging Jesse back outside. There was snow still on the ground but the small round table Eugene sat them at was dry and the tea was warm enough to compensate for the slight chill that permeated the air despite the sun. 

“Have you thought at all about doing some more interviews? I really think it could...” Jesse trailed off at the look on Eugene’s face. 

“I don’t like lying. You can do whatever but I’ve got no plans to go push your agenda. I don’t see what the big deal is about good press anyway. We don’t have to _do_ anything for people to think we’re in love or whatever. We’re soulmates, that’s the natural assumption.”

“But we have to do work to make people _like_ to think we’re in love. To like you. And the last appearance gained you a lot of fans.”

“I don’t want fans. Not for being your—whatever. Why’s it so important to you anyway?”

Jesse hated that question. It was stupid and he never knew how to answer it. “Why don’t you care? Being liked isn’t a strange thing to want.”

“You’re crazy about public adoration, though. It’s like all you care about is attention and praise. It’s exhausting.”

“I’m exhausting? Me? You’re the one who always drags me across town and up mountains and laser tagging when I let you plan our public appearances.”

“Can’t you call them literally anything but that? It sounds so orchestrated. Can’t we just ‘hang out’ like normal people?”

“No. I’m not normal. I’m Fated. The closest thing to royalty this country has. You can’t just treat me like any nobody.”

Eugene smiled lazily and scooted his chair in close, leaning across the dainty table. 

“But that’s what they like about me. I _humanize_ you. And I do that by treating you just like I’d treat any other person.”

Jesse glared. Eugene laughed. Making fun of him again. 

“Should I have agreed you’re special?” Eugene asked softly. He was too close. Abruptly, surprisingly _too close._ When had he leaned in so far? Before Jesse had a chance to rectify the closeness, Eugene pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. 

Jesse tried to ask what Eugene thought he was doing, but he was too lost to even compose the words. Another laugh from Eugene did nothing to ease Jesse’s bafflement.

Eugene took the empty teacup from Jesse’s hand and placed it on the table, standing and gesturing for Jesse to follow. He didn’t have much of a choice; Eugene started walking, leaving him to catch up. 

As they walked back to Eugene’s terrible car, Jesse’s emotions simmered from confusion into indignation. How dare Eugene make fun of him and then think he could kiss him? The silence in the car on the ride to his estates was angry and the anger was all Jesse’s. 

Dad wasn’t home, his car was gone. So when Eugene walked Jesse to his door—the way Jesse had coached him to as a proper suitor—Jesse caught the door and jerked his head for Eugene to get in the house.

Closing the door with a slam, Jesse spun toward Eugene. 

“I’m not—,” Jesse hissed, furiously wiping his sleeve against his cheek. “I don’t like boys.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you _kissing_ me?”

“I saw a camera in the bushes,” Eugene’s smile was mocking. “I know all you care about is your image so I thought I’d do you a solid. To make up for not wanting to lie on a larger scale.”

Eugene might as well have just slapped him, the way that comment stung. It was true. That was what made it sting. If Jesse had seen the camera, he couldn’t have orchestrated the moment any better himself. But Eugene’s opinion of him clearly wasn’t high. All he saw was a vain brat and Jesse hated it. Hated seeing himself through Eugene’s eyes because he could never tell how accurately they saw him. 

“In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not dating. You’re a commoner so you’re unversed in Fated customs but even you should know better than to kiss a Fated you’re only courting.”

Eugene barked a laugh. “That purity bullshit is for Fated who haven’t found their soulmate yet. You _are_ my soulmate so that argument is even bigger bullshit than usual. And I might be common but I’m not stupid, Jesse. I looked it up when you said we’d court for a year so I know as well as you do that a kiss to the back of the hand or either cheek is completely fine. But I won’t do it again.”

“See to it that you don’t.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not gay.”

“So you keep telling me. At least once a week since I woke your fake ass up.”

“Because I wish every day that you hadn’t! I was supposed to wake up Cordelia. I was supposed to have a beautiful Fated girl as my princess and instead, I got _you._ It’s a bit of a disappointment, surely even you can see that.”

“Oh, wow,” Eugene didn’t look mad or hurt. He just looked at Jesse with that same judgment. “Yeah, you’re every bit as fake as I thought you were. An even bigger brat than I would have guessed though, and that’s pretty impressive. So congrats on exceeding my expectations. And you can go fuck all the pretty princesses you want, I don’t care.”

Eugene slammed out of the house as loudly as Jesse had slammed into it. He was mad enough that he wanted to hurl the vase of flowers on the side table after Eugene, wanted to watch the glass explode against the door. Wanted to scream in frustration. 

_You can go fuck all the pretty princesses you want._

It wasn’t that easy. That wasn’t what proper Fated did and Jesse was a proper Fated. He’d never allowed anyone to kiss him, had saved it all for his soulmate. Eugene wouldn’t understand. Eugene hadn’t known there was someone destined for him so he’d never have thought it was wrong to be with other people. The thought made Jesse’s anger flare again. Eugene would have kissed tons of people, no doubt, giving away his kisses as if it wasn’t as good as cheating to do so. He might not have known he had a soulmate but, in that moment, Jesse blamed him nonetheless. Eugene wasn’t the soulmate Jesse wanted but he was the one Jesse had, and his mouth twisted to think of all the people Eugene must have dated before finding him. 

_I should have just kissed Cordelia,_ a small and bitter part of his brain supplied. He’d lost the chance to kiss anyone he actually had any interest in kissing forever and for a boy that hadn’t saved his first kiss for Jesse in return. Except...

_You can go fuck all the pretty princesses you want, I don’t care._

Eugene had given him full permission. And Cordelia was right, he deserved to be happy too. 

Jesse pulled out his phone, fingers hovering over the contact. He shouldn’t. He returned to his computer, still open to that ridiculous picture and enthusiastic post. Closing out of the tab with a jab at the trackpad, Jesse unlocked his phone again, thumb hovering over the call button in Cordelia’s contact. He shouldn’t. But he did. 

* * *

In the past week, Jesse had hosted Cordelia at his estates thrice and Eugene not once. Eugene had not come for their regularly scheduled dates and calling to demand where he was seemed rather pathetic. Jesse knew he’d have to eventually; people would notice if they suddenly cut contact. But he was putting it off. 

Cordelia had just left and, while spending time with her again felt familiar and nice, it also exhausted him more than it used to. A niggling worry in his brain warned that it was wrong. Cordelia had been ecstatic when he’d called and proposed something of an informal courtship. She’d broken up with Chandler and come over that very night. And twice more after. They had plans for a Monday night musical. It was almost as if everything was normal again. As if Jesse hadn’t fallen. Hadn’t woken for someone else. 

“Jesse, someone’s here to see you.” Dad sounded in a good mood as he came in. Was it late enough already for him to be home?

“Did she forget something?” Jesse asked, leaving his studies, which he’d only just gotten to, and coming to the front door. 

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Eugene offered with a small smile. “I was just coming to see you and your dad found me in the driveway.”

“You’re welcome here any time,” Dad said, then, at a look from Jesse, made himself scarce. Even after he disappeared into the living room, Jesse held up a hand to silence Eugene. 

“Come to my room, we can talk there.”

Eugene followed Jesse up the curving stairs and through the upstairs parlor and hallways. When at last they were to his room, Jesse became uncomfortably aware that this was the first time Eugene had ever been allowed in it. 

"Who’s ‘she’?” Eugene’s voice was light and curious, his face arranged in a teasing smile, intent on getting gossip out of Jesse. 

“Cordelia.” There was no point hiding it. Eugene nodded knowingly. 

“Your pretty princess.”

Was he really unbothered by the implication there? He must be, he didn’t look at all upset. Or surprised. 

“Look,” Eugene said, hands up in surrender. “Neither of us were at our best last week. I get that this isn’t what you wanted but I think we should be friends. You’ve got Cordelia so let’s break off our courtship—,”

“We can’t!”

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Eugene rolled his eyes. “It can be another lie of omission. But you and I will both know who you’re _really_ courting. That way, we can just be buds. Without all the romance stuff and without any press, we can get to know each other as people and be actual friends.”

“Why? The exaggerated romance is the only purpose to any of this, without that, what is the point of getting to know each other?”

“You’re the one who cares about that stuff. Your precious reputation. I never came for any of that.”

“Then why _did_ you come?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away.” Eugene sighed, looking around Jesse’s room as if it disappointed him. “I thought it would stop after you woke up. But I can’t stay away from you any better now than I could during your Waking Nights.”

Jesse didn’t want to admit that a certain tightness in his chest that had plagued him all week had loosened the moment he’d seen Eugene. Didn’t want to admit that he’d wondered where Eugene lived, had imagined visiting him once or twice. Didn’t want to admit how he might not have been able to resist if he knew where to find Eugene. So he didn’t. 

"Fine. Friends. Whatever. Just don’t let on that we’re not more than that.”

“I won’t.” If Eugene had been unconcerned before, he was chipper now. Sitting on Jesse’s bed without permission, he asked, “How’d that picture do? I keep seeing it everywhere but you’re the expert.”

Jesse had seen it everywhere too. It was a pretty thing—the photographer that had caught them was good with a camera. Jesse’s surprise came across as soft and wondrous in the picture as Eugene kissed his cheek over tea. It was the perfect moment, natural and sweet. 

“Everyone loves it,” Jesse admitted. “Perhaps I was too harsh in my reaction. It’s done us both a lot of good.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Eugene brushed off the apology Jesse hadn’t even really given. “I know better than to kiss you now. And we’re not courting so I’ll be completely hands-off, promise.”

“Oh. Good.”

* * *

Eugene had been true to his word. All the casual touches of their previous—failed—courtship were gone. Jesse didn’t think they’d really meant anything at the time. Eugene was always offering casual, unthinking touches to people. Now, though, their absence meant something. Because Eugene had to be thinking consciously about stopping himself from ever touching Jesse. 

Which was good. 

It was all good. A relief to know that Eugene knew they weren’t and never would be anything romantic. Jesse didn’t like boys. He didn’t like Eugene. He didn’t like Eugene’s casual hand on his back or squeeze to his shoulder or awful knuckle rubs. 

“What’s got you making such a sour face?” Eugene asked from the daybed in Jesse’s room. The scheduled end to their so-called date had come and gone. Eugene had offered to help Jesse with the math assignment he’d been complaining about as they made their rounds through the gardens. And when the homework had been finished, Eugene had found a magazine and a seat. He’d been making constant fun of all the tabloids ever since. 

“I’m not making any kind of face,” Jesse said, clicking off his phone. Eugene watched him put it away. 

“Cordelia?”

“No. Not everything I do on my phone involves texting her.”

“You’re right. The other half is researching how many people ship us.”

“Shush you.” There was no way Jesse was going to tell Eugene that he’d been frowning at his phone because Cordelia wanted to see him again so soon after their last secret date. She was pushing a lot lately for more of everything. 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll shush.” Standing, Eugene stretched and discarded the magazine. Jesse thought he meant to leave. It was getting rather late. But he didn’t say goodbye, nor did he walk to the door. 

Jesse’s favorite épée was hung on the wall over his bed and Eugene reached for it, drawing it and testing it in his hand. It was a left-handed blade, but Eugene still fell into a perfect en garde stance with it. 

“I fenced in high school,” he said, breaking position and examining the blade again. 

“I know. You captained your team last year. Kings Row won state.”

Eugene was momentarily surprised. Then he laughed. “Of course you know that. Bet it’s common knowledge now. I keep forgetting. Is this the same épée from your Waking Nights?”

“Yes. It’s precious to me so be careful with it.”

“I’ll treat it as if it’s your heart I’m holding in my hands.” But Eugene replaced the blade to its mount, not holding it at all. 

* * *

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Jesse asked impatiently as Eugene helped him out of the car. He’d made Jesse keep his eyes closed the entire drive and now he was breaking his rule by physically guiding Jesse to wherever they were going. It must be something good to go to so much trouble. 

“Almost.” Jesse could hear the smile in Eugene’s voice. “You’ll like it. Okay, here we are. Open up.”

Jesse did. And found himself in a fencing salle he recognized. A startled laugh escaped him. He hadn’t expected to be brought here. 

“Did Dad help you with this scheme?”

“He might have given me a key and a schedule. And told me where you keep your fencing gear.”

“This is your idea of a good date?” Jesse asked and regretted his choice of word immediately. Eugene didn’t notice it. 

“I was thinking about it and I thought, you know, how haven’t we fenced yet? What are the odds of getting a literal soulmate that likes fencing? I’ve gotta take advantage of it. Assuming you actually _do_ like fencing.”

“What does that mean?” Jesse narrowed his eyes at Eugene. He shrugged, unconcerned as ever. 

“It means half the stuff you do is for show.”

“That’s not true.”

“It kinda is, bro. It’s like your laugh. You’ve got a real pretty one but the first time I heard it at your ridiculous birthday party, I knew it was fake as hell. Most of them are.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t give me that. You know it’s true, don’t be a nuisance and act all offended just because I see through your perfect prince act.”

“If I’m such a nuisance and a fake, you should have just let me sleep. I bet you liked me better that way.”

Eugene looked up from his bag, eyebrow raised in mirth the way it so often was. But when he spoke, it didn’t sound at all mirthful. 

“No, I couldn’t have stood it if you’d slept forever. I’m glad you’re awake, whatever else our kiss meant, I’m glad it meant that.” Then he pulled on his glove like there was nothing strange at all about what he’d just said. “Now, let’s see if you’re any good.”

Jesse was more than good. He was better than Eugene, but he had more fun fencing against Eugene than he could remember having with anyone else. Eugene didn’t get upset or frustrated at Jesse’s repeated wins. He didn’t make excuses, either. Just kept on coming at Jesse, smile in place and impossibly genuine. 

“Think you can handle another round?” Eugene asked, breaths coming as heavy as Jesse’s. Jesse laughed, adjusted his mask, and fell into stance. 

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” Jesse said pointedly. Eugene’s tip trained on the ground and, despite being the challenger, he didn’t hurry to start the bout. “What?” Jesse demanded when he noticed Eugene’s borderline dopey grin behind his mask. 

“It’s nothing. Just, I like your laugh a lot. Especially when it’s the real deal.”

Jesse’s face felt hot. They’d been fencing for ages, it was no wonder he felt warm. That was all it was. 

“Who says it’s the real deal?” Jesse gestured for Eugene to raise his blade so they could start. He did. 

"Me. I say it is. I can tell the difference between when you’re being real and when you’re being fake, dumbass.”

“Then what do you think about this?” Jesse lunged, Eugene parried. “You asked before if I actually liked fencing. So you tell me if you’re the expert. Do I?”

“Easy. You love fencing. Everything about you when you fence is entirely, perfectly real.”

Jesse slipped up in distraction, allowing Eugene to get inside his guard and score a point. Regaining his composure, Jesse poured himself into the bout, determined not to let Eugene in again. But it was hard. He kept thinking about Eugene’s laugh—about all the different ones he had and all the ways they got under Jesse’s skin. He thought also of the hand at the small of his back today, the fingers around his arm that had led him here. And, lastly, he thought of Eugene’s insistence that he could see Jesse here, could see what was real. Liked it, even. 

Jesse didn’t like Eugene. Not as more than a friend. Eugene felt the same way. That was why he’d let Jesse have Cordelia. That was why he took care not to lay a finger on Jesse unless unavoidable. 

How many people, Jesse wondered, had Eugene touched? How many people had he kissed? It was unfair of him—ludicrously, insanely, stupidly unfair of him for so many reasons, but Jesse hated every single one of them for getting affection from _his_ soulmate. Affection that was, by right, all his, whether or not he wanted it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [my sibling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostasgayasstartrek/pseuds/almostasgayasstartrek) for humoring my bullshit and drawing me a Eugesse laser tag picture, they're really far too nice to me. There's also a green version and because I love both imma drop that here as well (yes, Elisse, here is the context for my color question, thanks for picking for me because I physically could not)  
> 
> 
> Also, I want you to take note of the tumblr blog that posted the pic in the story--that's an alternate reality version of me that knew how to spell bananas when she was 12


	3. Part Three

Eugene was in attendance at Jesse’s graduation, sitting next to Robert for the reception. Eugene got on with Robert well enough—they’d had plenty of time to get to know each other with how often Eugene was at his house. Jesse never liked to leave them alone if he could help it, which Eugene thought was funny. Did he worry Eugene would say something wrong to his father? Or that his father would say something embarrassing to Eugene? Or was it just a curtesy because he assumed Eugene would find it awkward? Somehow, Eugene doubted it was that last one. Jesse tended to care only about things that affected him.

The ceremony had yet to begin and the great hall was abuzz with talk. It was strange to be in a room filled with Fated, hearing snippets of their nonsensically posh conversations.

“Has he settled down at all?” Robert's question cut through the debate about fancy hats Eugene had been idly listening in on. 

“Jesse?” Eugene asked, a little thrown by the direct question. Usually, Robert didn’t inquire about Eugene and Jesse’s love life.

“Yes. He was...unsure at the start.”

“A downright pain in the ass, you mean,” Eugene laughed before remembering who he was talking to. But Robert inclined his head with a smile.

“He can be difficult. But he’s seemed to be more sure recently. Happier.”

That would be due to their new arrangement involving Cordelia Lancaster but Eugene was sure that was a secret for three people, not four.

“Yeah, Jesse’s calmed down a lot. Still difficult but I don’t mind it.”

“How fortuitous.” Robert smiled knowingly, a small laugh to the inside joke. How fortuitous, indeed, that Jesse was a pain in the ass and Eugene had—somehow—ended up liking him anyway. Soulmates were just like that. Fated relationships weren’t guaranteed to be easy but they were guaranteed to be right.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Eugene said, deciding now was a good time since Jesse couldn’t interrupt.

“Go on.”

“Jesse told me I was supposed to propose after a year.”

“He does like planning ahead. Was this the night you woke him?”

“Yeah,” Eugene almost laughed thinking of it. “He wasn’t exactly happy about it but he made it clear what he expected.”

“The anniversary is only a couple months away. You want to propose?”

Eugene shrugged, feeling strange answering. “It’s what Jesse wants.” They hadn’t retouched on the issue, which, in Eugene’s mind, meant that was still the plan. “I’m not familiar with how any of this works but if Jesse wants a proposal in the fall, I’ll give him one. As far as I’m concerned, we’re as good as engaged anyway, so whenever Jesse wants it formalized by his standards is fine by me. Soulmates is already a promise for forever, isn’t it?” Rings wouldn’t change anything.

“Nicely said.”

“But I’m no Fated. I don’t know if there’s any special customs you guys have or—basically, I need help because I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t know who else to ask.” Because asking Jesse didn’t seem like an option. Robert seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

“I’d be happy to help,” Robert said, entirely sincere. But there wasn’t time now for all that, the music was starting. In another moment, the graduates regally filed into the chamber to fill up the rows of seats meticulously arranged for them.

Eugene had found his own graduation largely boring and Jesse’s wasn’t any better. It was, in fact, even _more_ pretentious than Kings Row’s ceremony. Exton was one of the best Fated schools in the nation, they came from all over to attend, so it was full of decorum and tradition. But, in a way, it was interesting for the glimpse into how the Fated lived. More or less like the UnFated, as it turned out. But Jesse, with his _C_ last name, was near the front and easy to spot. Eugene thought he caught Jesse’s eye once and tried to liven up the event with some subtle charades but Jesse had looked away and fixed his eyes to the speaker. They hadn’t strayed since.

Considering how small Jesse’s class was, it took ages before the graduates were released and the attendees stood to greet them.

In a rare moment of carefree and clumsy excitement, Jesse came barreling through the crowd of other bumbling and shouting boys, diploma in hand, and careened into his dad’s arms with a delighted laugh. Robert caught the flying attack as easily as Eugene withstood his baby brother’s exuberant hugs. And, just then, Jesse seemed like a little kid. He’d just graduated high school, officially and fully diving into the adult world, but his dad’s jubilant embrace engulfed him and he looked small and young and so full of life.

Jesse extracted himself from Robert and, to Eugene’s utter surprise, flung arms around _him_ next. As Eugene returned the gesture by wrapping his arms around Jesse’s back, it occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever hugged Jesse. And he hadn’t even been the one to start it.

“Thank you for coming,” Jesse whispered against his ear.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Eugene said with some bemusement. But, then, Eugene was the only one that had sat next to Robert, that had come specifically for Jesse. It was so unlike Eugene’s graduation, which his parents and siblings and extended family had all come to. They’d taken up a huge chunk of the bleachers for his outdoor graduation. Compared to all that, Jesse’s reception was humble.

And, Eugene realized, he’d probably expected it to consist only of his father.

* * *

“I’ll do another interview.” Eugene was as surprised as Jesse to hear the words spill from his mouth. “A graduation present.”

“You mean it?” Jesse asked in astonishment. Not surprising. Eugene had resisted official interviews and photoshoots and, basically, anything and everything that might encourage Jesse’s fanbase or help his image. Eugene wasn’t super comfortable with lying, even if most of it was implied. But the main issue he took with it all was the fake Jesse it always brought out. Pandering to an audience instead of just being him. He was a good actor, too, which only made it worse. But Eugene knew he’d like another interview and there wasn’t much else Eugene could gift him that he didn’t already have.

“Yeah, I mean it,” Eugene said resolutely. “Book whatever you want and prepare notes or whatever for me to memorize.”

“I think we should expand on the moment before I fell—it’s a brilliant coincidence and people are theorizing endlessly about if it means anything, they’d love to hear more from us on it—,” Jesse cut off abruptly, turning red and looking down. Eugene didn’t think he’d been making a judgmental face, but he checked himself anyway. His intention hadn’t been to make Jesse feel abashed today.

“Do you think it means anything? That you fell right after seeing me?”

“I don’t—no. Logically, no. That’s not how it works. It’s just an insane coincidence.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” Eugene shouldn’t have said it. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but Jesse’s eyes were averted again. Why was it so hard to give him what he wanted for once without making him feel bad for it?

“I think I felt something.” Jesse shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hesitant and quiet. “Before I fell. You asked me once if I could tell and I couldn’t. I didn’t know I was about to fall but I did feel...something. I don’t know what it was. Like a swell of music in my chest. Or something. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s how it feels. But Dad didn’t fall and none of my friends have fallen yet, so I can’t ask. Sometimes, though, I wonder if that’s what it feels like to see your soulmate for the first time and if my soul just got overwhelmed by it.” Jesse laughed then, a nervous titter of a sound. “Sorry, that doesn’t even make sense—I know it was just a coincidence.”

“No, I think I get what you’re saying. I don’t know how Fated stuff works all that well, but I think you lot aren’t all that much surer about it than the rest of us. Maybe falling is random but maybe it means something anyway that you fell right then. I mean, maybe it doesn’t work that way. But maybe it worked that way for us. Maybe I needed to see you fall to find you so soon. If I hadn’t, who knows how long it would have taken for me to break into a Waking Night?”

“So it was fate, one way or another.”

“Precisely. But I shouldn’t keep you any longer, you have your grad night to get to.”

“I do,” Jesse said, checking his watch for the time. “I should get to that.”

“Yeah. Have fun tonight, you deserve it, Mr. Valedictorian.”

Jesse laughed and climbed into the car they’d been standing by as they’d talked for much longer than had been necessary. Eugene waved Jesse off but, when he was gone, Eugene didn’t get into his own car to head home. He went back inside instead, as Robert had suggested after dinner while Jesse had been getting ready for the graduation party Exton was hosting at the country club.

There were only a couple months left before he was expected to propose and he really did need some advice about how to do it right.

* * *

Proposing to a Fated, Eugene found out, wasn’t any different from proposing to anyone. But Jesse wasn’t just anyone and Robert had offered some input on how, specifically, Jesse would best like to be proposed to.

* * *

Jesse had been easily persuaded into a beach picnic. Eugene should have known he’d never actually been on one from how little he protested to it. He protested plenty now.

“There’s sand in my sandwich.” Jesse picked at the offending sandwich with extreme displeasure.

“Feed it to a seagull,” Eugene suggested. Jesse glared.

“There’s sand _everywhere._ Couldn’t we have at least gone to a private section of beach so all the commoners weren’t kicking sand up on our towel and lunch?”

Eugene dug a heel into the sand and swept it over onto Jesse’s side of the towel in a gentle spray. He yelled, which made Eugene laugh.

“If you want to escape all the commoners kicking sand on you, you’ll have to leave me behind too.”

“I might,” Jesse threatened. Eugene badly wanted to grab him in a headlock and rub some sand into his perfectly wavy hair. But that wasn’t part of their relationship so he left Jesse untouched and as un-sandy as it was possible to be given their location. “I thought a picnic on the beach would be more romantic than this but it’s just grainy and loud and way too hot.”

“Let’s get in the ocean, then. That’ll cool you down and wash off the sand.” Eugene thought it was a perfect solution but Jesse just grimaced. “But first, put on sunscreen, you’re already red.”

Jesse pressed a hand to his cheek as if checking for heat. He dropped it and shook his head. “I already put on some sunscreen.”

“Not enough. I bet you burn easy. Do you want me to get your back?” Eugene offered without thinking, already rummaging in their beach bag for the bottle.

“Alright.” Jesse turned his back to Eugene without a second thought. Eugene had expected to get his head bitten off and it took him a moment to actually squeeze out some of the sunscreen. “Thanks.”

Eugene rubbed a generous amount of sunscreen all across Jesse’s back and on his neck, shoulders, and even his ears. He was already particularly red across those areas. How quick did his skin burn, Eugene wondered with amusement. They hadn’t been out here for too long.

“There you go, nice and protected from that mean sun. Ready to go swim?”

“Do we have to?”

“I thought you said you liked swimming.”

“I like swimsuits more than I really like swimming.”

Eugene snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you. Cute swimsuit, by the way.”

“Being covered in salt isn’t much better than being covered in sand.”

“But think about it, Jess, your outsides would finally match your insides!”

“Salt…y?” Jesse asked, then whacked Eugene’s arm with a pointed glower when he got it.

“You can’t deny you’re being a grump. Come on,” Eugene waved Jesse after him, not waiting to hear more complaints before walking down to the shore. He wasn’t surprised when Jesse caught up with a huff.

Eugene didn’t lead him right into the water. He stopped at the edge of it, which lapped lazily at their feet. When Eugene crouched down, Jesse crossed his arms, unimpressed and unwilling to follow suit.

“I need to stop letting you plan outings,” he said, stalling for time. Eugene grinned up at him, knowing as well as Jesse that it was only a matter of time before he gave in and joined Eugene on the wet sand.

“You always have fun, don’t pretend. Here, can I show you something?” Eugene reached a hand up, a gesture clearly waiting to be answered. Jesse didn’t understand what it was asking for, so he just pursed his lips before blowing them out in a mighty sigh and kneeling next to Eugene.

“What is it?”

“May I borrow your hands?”

“My—?” Jesse’s brows knitted together, his eyes flicking to Eugene’s upturned palm. Hesitantly, he placed his hand in Eugene’s.

“Perfect, you’re gonna love this.”

Eugene snatched up Jesse’s other hand, flipping them both skyward and then plunging them deep into the sand, water washing over them and retreating, leaving the sand bubbling subtly. Jesse allowed it, face a hilarious mask of confusion.

Eugene pulled their hands from the sand, cupping Jesse’s hands around the sand brought with them.

“What is this—Ah!” Jesse tried yanking his hands from Eugene’s grasp, his entire body jerking in alarm.

“Open your hands,” Eugene prompted. Jesse did as asked, albeit reluctantly. Eugene guided Jesse’s thumbs over the sand, unburying the little white creatures trying to burrow deeper into the beach they were no longer on. “Sand crabs.”

Jesse stared down at his hands in surprise, then, as one of the sand crabs surfaced briefly before trying to squeeze between his fingers, Jesse laughed in childlike delight.

“Good, right?” Eugene asked, delighting in Jesse’s enthusiastic nod. He returned the wriggling crabs to the ground and watched them disappear. And then he went in for another handful. Eugene showed him how to search for the tiny air bubbles and to dig his hands in deep.

“They’re funny little critters, aren’t they?” Jesse asked, still smiling as he let go of yet another batch of crabs.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You ready to go play in the water?”

Jesse ran his fingers into the sand, leaving behind grooves that were quickly filled and smoothed over by the surf.

“Yes, alright,” he decided, standing. There were patches of sticky sand on his knees, and the heals of his hands. It had even gotten smeared across his chest. “I’ll get in the water if you really want to.”

“You know I do.”

Eugene got to his feet, as covered in sand as Jesse. But not for long. They waded into the ocean together. Jesse yelped when a crashing wave hit him, his skin raising in goosebumps from the cold.

“You’ll adjust to the temperature soon enough,” Eugene said before Jesse even had time to complain about it. He looked a little surprised to have been read so easily and Eugene just winked in response. “Let’s go farther in, get completely acclimatized. You’ll like it better behind the waves, we can just chill there.”

“Where do you like it?” Jesse asked, watching another wave crash with suspicion.

“I’m not picky. I like it back behind the waves and I like it being in the middle of the action. I could teach you how to body surf if you’d like.”

“Not today, thanks.” Jesse’s dry tone made Eugene grin.

“Another time, then.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“It’s fun. But this is nice too,” Eugene said, then made his way under a new wave, emerging behind the breaking point. Jesse wasn’t far behind. They swam deeper in, to be sure of the peace. The saltwater kept them afloat with little effort, making for comfortable drifting as they talked. And, just as Eugene had promised, it wasn’t long before Jesse stopped shivering.

* * *

It was hours before Eugene and Jesse waded back out of the oceans, wrinkled and waterlogged, and loaded into Eugene’s car. _I’m glad we took your beast,_ Jesse had said, watching in distaste as he shed sand and salt and water all over the car. Eugene had laughed, only barely stopped himself from ruffling Jesse’s hair, and driven them back to the Coste estates.

Jesse had showered first. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that Eugene could have showered in one of the many guest rooms until Jesse was already slipping out of the steaming bathroom and telling Eugene that the towel hung on the door was for him. And, by then, it was too late to bother changing course.

It felt good to get all the grit off him after a long day at the beach. Eugene scrubbed Jesse’s fancy shampoo through his hair and smiled as he recalled the way Jesse’s hair had tangled and waved in the seawater. He was pleased that Jesse had stayed out with him so long today. Eugene had expected an hour or two at most but had gotten the entire day instead. Other than his sandy sandwich, Jesse had even enjoyed himself, Eugene was sure of it.

Eugene didn’t linger too long in the shower and only did a rudimentary drying of his hair before stepping back out into Jesse’s lush room.

“Hey, I was thinking we should grab a bite to eat, no sand involved,” Eugene said but soon went quiet, seeing there was no point to his suggestion at all.

Jesse was passed the fuck out, completely and accidentally collapsed across his mattress. Eugene smiled with a soft breath of laughter. They had played pretty hard today, Jesse must have been exhausted.

It was strange to see him asleep again. Eugene’s experience with his sleeping prince had been contained to Jesse’s Waking Nights. Since then, Eugene had only ever seen Jesse when he was awake. It wasn’t unexpected, then, that Eugene thought of those thirteen nights when he saw Jesse’s eyes closed again in sleep. Except, instead of impeccable suits and perfectly positioned limbs, Jesse was sprawled, his hair messy, his skin flush from the sun, and his shirt hitched up and askew.

Jesse Coste had been a pretty sight during his Waking Nights but all of that couldn’t hold a candle to the vulnerable and unintended beauty of him now.

The doorbell rang, loud and insistent. Jesse didn’t so much as stir and Eugene had to smile a little fondly at him before vacating the room to answer the door. Robert was at work and Jesse looked too sweet to wake, so there was really no choice.

“I knocked for—,” a pretty girl Eugene vaguely recognized as Cordelia Lancaster cut off sharply upon seeing Eugene.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said in answer to the knocking that hadn’t been audible in Jesse’s room. “Just got back from the beach. Cleaning off, you know how it is.”

“Where’s Jesse?”

“Tuckered out upstairs.” Eugene made no move to allow Cordelia inside. He had a feeling he knew exactly what she’d do if he did.

“I’m sure he won’t mind me dropping in,” Cordelia said with a poisonous smile and meaningful look.

“Usually, I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Eugene agreed. “But he’s so asleep he might as well have fallen again.”

“Perhaps he needs a kiss to wake him up. It wouldn’t be a bother since I’m already here.”

“You’re funny. Look, if you’re really dying to see him, come and hang for a bit while he naps. You can kiss him when he’s awake and able to give the okay for all that.”

Cordelia looked scorned, which wasn’t what Eugene had anticipated. She looked as if Jesse being awake to grant her kisses greatly decreased her likelihood of being able to give them. Interesting. Eugene had assumed their arrangement had more benefits than Jesse’s relationship with him. But it seemed they were in the same boat and the thought got a laugh out of Eugene. Leave it to Jesse to have two strange, not-quite romances and refuse to let either party touch him.

“I’ll be back later,” Cordelia spat, thinking Eugene’s laugh had been at her expense. “And I’ll be here to stay. Jesse won’t ever love _you_ , he’s—,”

“Straight? I dunno, that doesn’t mean he can’t love me. I’ve got plenty of friends I love even though I don’t want to bang them, doesn’t mean that’s worth any less. Jesse can do what he wants, and if that’s you, fine. But he’s sleeping right now. I’ll let him know you dropped by when he’s up.”

Eugene watched Cordelia storm away with some small amount of satisfaction.

* * *

Since their day at the beach, Cordelia popped up much more often, cutting in right after Eugene and Jesse’s mandatory dates were scheduled to end. Just to prove that she could and that Jesse would send Eugene away to be with her instead. He never had to. Eugene took his cue and left when she appeared, letting them have their privacy.

“No adventures today?” Jesse asked, letting Eugene in for their date.

“Better not, I’ve offended your girlfriend enough already and stealing you away for a whole day isn’t gonna do me any favors in her book.”

“I don’t think anything will,“ Jesse said with a little frown. “Except moving far away and never speaking to me again, perhaps.”

“And what do you think?”

“What?”

“Is it worth it? Should I move far away and never speak to you again?”

“Of course not. She can deal with it.”

“Good, because I don’t think I could have pulled it off if you’d said yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t have offered.”

Eugene considered. “Yeah, that’s solid advice. Probably pretty stupid of me but I knew you wouldn’t really send me away.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it would ruin your story.”

Jesse shot him a nasty look for that. “Whatever. I want to go out, it’s been ages since we left the house.”

“Wanna go fence?”

Jesse brightened. “Yes, please. That sounds great.”

Jesse’s bright mood lasted their entire trip out, and he absolutely beamed when Eugene suggested they grab lunch before ending. _Maybe I should take Jesse out more often,_ Eugene thought, eyeing Jesse’s unfounded chipper demeanor as they ate. He’d always complained before when Eugene dragged him about, but it had been a while since the beach, the last venture outside of Jesse’s expansive house that Eugene had insisted upon. But, then, Jesse must be getting stir crazy now that school was out. And it wasn’t as if he could go out with Cordelia, who was far from subtle and would doubtless cause a scandal. It was a wonder she hadn’t already. Unlike Eugene, she seemed to thrive in the eye of the public. Must be a Fated thing.

Eugene still wasn’t used to the stares or the random questions thrown at him all the time. It was both better and worse when he was with Jesse. Worse, because there was much more attention. Better, because it seemed a lot more worth it.

“You’ve been staring at that guy for ages,” Jesse said, judgment laced in his voice.

“Just because you can’t appreciate a pretty boy doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Is he your type?”

“The guy I was looking at?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Both of them looked again to the table by the window, Jesse’s assessment obvious in his gaze. Then the man with auburn hair pulled up in a gloriously messy bun leaned forward and obscured the reflection of Jesse. Eugene had to look back over to the real deal to gauge his mood. It wasn’t as bright as it had been before he’d caught Eugene window watching.

“How many people have you kissed?” Jesse’s question was leveled and serious. Eugene just about choked on his drink.

“Why?”

“I just want to know. Fated don’t date but you would have.”

“I still say you Fated have a lot of fucked up culture bogus going on.”

“You UnFated need to date to find love. But Fated are different. Why should we waste time on people we aren’t fated for? Why should we let anyone else have us at all when we’re already promised? Stop making that face, you don’t have to like it but it makes sense.”

“To someone raised on it, maybe. You shouldn’t police people’s relationships. That’s not for you to judge.”

“I’m not judging anyone.”

“You’re always judging someone. You complain about that Cooper dude all the time for giving your generation of Fated a reputation for being loose. And, right now, you’re judging me.”

“I just think I have a right to know who’s touched my soulmate.” Jesse darted another glare to the redhead.

“I’m not gonna do anything, Jess, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It wasn’t.” It was. “Well, why don’t you? We—,” Jesse glanced around, lowered his voice, “—broke off our courtship months ago.”

“Part of the deal was keeping that detail between us.” He didn’t mention Cordelia. Eugene wasn’t really sure what she knew or thought but he reckoned she didn’t care much no matter what she believed.

“You never answered my question.”

“I could ask you the same. How many people have touched my soulmate?” Eugene laughed at the way Jesse’s mouth fell open. In shock or in protest or in answer. Eugene never found out. “But I don’t care because it doesn’t matter.” Did he like the idea of Cordelia hanging all over Jesse? No. But it didn’t matter in the long run. It didn’t somehow make Jesse worth less.

“That’s right, it doesn’t.”

Eugene got the feeling they were somehow having two different conversations. How had they gotten to this? Jesse had been so happy when they’d embarked this morning.

“We should probably get you back home.”

“Probably.”

The drive was almost as hostile as the time Eugene had kissed Jesse’s cheek. Less hostile though this one was, it was also worse. Eugene wasn’t really sure what he’d done to turn Jesse’s mood other than the talk of dating. Maybe it bothered Jesse more than Eugene had thought that Eugene hadn’t known to ‘save’ himself. Or maybe it bothered Jesse that Eugene probably wouldn’t have even if he had known.

“Hey,” Eugene said after parking his car next to Cordelia’s. He didn’t turn the key yet, didn’t get the door or walk Jesse up to his house. He didn’t want to pass Jesse off to Cordelia on such a sour note.

“What?”

“I know it’s not really your scene,” Eugene started with caution. He’d meant to do this when Jesse was less ticked at him. “But I’m going camping with some friends this weekend and you know how much they all love you. They’ve been bugging me to invite you, I told them you wouldn’t want to but they’d love to have you. And so would I. If you’re interested at all.”

“Yes,” Jesse answered immediately.

“Wait—did I hear that right? Did you just agree to come? You must be even more stir crazy than I thought.”

“Stir crazy? I don’t know what you’re talking about but yes, I’ll go. I’ve never been camping before. It should be fun.”

“Definitely,” Eugene agreed.

Jesse was smiling again by the time Eugene handed him off to his girlfriend.

* * *

Jesse looked more like he was ready to go golfing than camping, and he’d packed like he was expecting the trip to be a week instead of a night. Eugene didn’t comment. He helped load Jesse’s stuff into the car and then, sarcastically, helped load Jesse into the car too. But Jesse had taken Eugene’s offered hand with a prim decorum that hadn’t been present the last time Eugene had tried helping him into a car.

That night seemed forever ago now but Eugene still remembered every detail of it. He remembered the sound of Robert’s champagne flute as he’d tapped it, telling Eugene, _just the one._ He remembered the smell of the room, heady in perfumes. And Jesse’s white and golden suit, the exact way his hair had felt. The unremarkable touch of lips, no spark included. And Jesse’s eyes, finally, _finally_ opening and meeting his again. If there’d been a spark, that was when it had hit. As brilliant blue was swallowed by black, Jesse’s eyes dilating as they took in everything. Understood everything.

“Are you going to let me in on the joke?” Jesse asked, fiddling with the radio.

“I was just remembering the fit you threw when I woke you up.”

Jesse’s next jab at the radio was particularly aggressive.

“What are you thinking of that for?”

“Just how I never would have thought that sleeping prince would go camping with me. And when I woke you up, oh man, I’d have believed this even less.”

“Now you’re just being rude. I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were insufferable, admit it.”

“No.”

“Brat.”

“Bully.”

“Just a little,” Eugene laughed. “Just for you.”

The drive went by fast with Jesse to talk to. They were the first ones there, so Eugene had Jesse start trekking all their gear to the campsite with him. They had their tent set up by the time Benny and Kasey and the rest arrived. Jesse had been more hindrance than help, but it had been worth it to see him jump when a pole had sprung out of place.

“I see the lovebirds have already made their nest,” Benny hooted, catching Eugene in a hug. “Try not to keep us up all night with the noise.”

“Shove off,” Eugene said, literally shoving him off for emphasis. He held his laughter for Jesse’s sake, though. “I have a two-person tent, it’d be dumb to bother with a second one.”

“Can’t believe you’re bunking with your boyfriend instead of me,” Benny pantomimed wiping a tear. “You’re all grown up.”

“Won’t you be bunking with your girlfriend anyway?” Jesse asked, unintentionally cutting off Eugene’s correction of the _boyfriend_ word. He’d told his friends almost a year ago that he and Jesse were courting and had never told them about the breakup. But _boyfriend_ wasn’t a courting word anyway. Jesse must have missed it because he didn’t correct it, only looked curiously at Benny and tilted his head to indicate Kasey.

Benny went beet red. Kasey laughed.

“We’re not dating,” Kasey told Jesse.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just assumed,” Jesse was horrified at his social faux pas, turning almost as red as Benny. He’d hung out with them enough to have a pretty good read on the group at this point and Kasey and Benny’s deal was easy to spot. Eugene took pity on Jesse and decided to side with him on this.

“The only reason they’re not dating is because they’re both too dense, scared, or both to ask the other out.”

That turned Kasey red too and made them all laugh. Their mutual crushes were an open secret and an inside joke. Jesse still looked guilty as the others set up.

“Your dumb sweater’s gone all lopsided,” Eugene said, gallantly offering a distraction from embarrassment over the dating mix-up.

“It’s not dumb,” Jesse said tiredly. It was one of his favorite fashion statements. And it was one of Eugene’s favorite things to poke fun at. So it was little wonder that Jesse was tired of it by now.

“Do you want me to fix it? You’re just getting it all twisted.”

Jesse dropped his hands from fiddling with the sky-blue sweater tied around his shoulders.

“Please.”

Eugene straightened it out, fingers lingering a bit on Jesse’s shoulders after finishing their work. Then they deftly untied the thing and yanked it off. Jesse snatched for it but Eugene was already running, cackling as Jesse took off in pursuit.

“Eugene! Give that back!”

“Never! Benny—catch!” Eugene hurled the bundled sweater at his friend, who quickly caught on to the game.

“Keep away!” Allie yelled. And the whole lot of them dissolved into a game of monkey in the middle, with Jesse Coste as the monkey. He was fast and wily but with six people tossing his sweater between them was too many for him to have any hope of keeping track of.

Kasey pulled out her phone, causing Jesse temporary distraction.

“No,” he shouted, “absolutely _no_ pictures of this, you assholes!” The sweater was lobbed over his head and Kasey snapped a picture of him jumping for it.

Eugene caught the bundle of blue in his hands. A mistake. He was too close to Jesse. Jesse lunged at him—not at all the sort of lunge he’d use in a fencing salle. The sort of lunge that propelled him off the ground and barreling into Eugene. They went careening to the ground, landing heavy with twin groans.

Jesse was partially on top of him still and he planted a hand on Eugene’s chest, reaching the other one across his body to yank back his sweater. Eugene let him, knowing he’d be in deep shit if he ripped the damn thing by holding on.

“Got it,” Jesse panted, triumphant. Then he fell back on the ground next to Eugene. Way too close to Eugene. Close enough that Eugene could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I cannot believe,” Kasey’s excited voice reminded Eugene of where he was, “that I have a video of _The Prince_ tackling someone over a jacket! I can’t wait to share this!”

“You will _not_ , _”_ Jesse scrambled up, and only then did Eugene realize how tangled together they’d really been. “Give that to me.”

“Up for another round already?” Eugene asked.

“I will sue you if I see any of that,” Jesse gestured to the phone emphatically, “online. It absolutely will not do to have everyone think I participate in such stupid—stupid tomfoolery.”

“Tomfoolery,” Benny wheezed. “You kill me. Wish you’d come participate in tomfoolery more often.”

“Promise no photos will make it onto the internet and I might.”

* * *

“Should we sing camp songs?” Eugene asked as they gathered around the fire. Jesse pulled on his sweater next to him, the sun having set and leaving a chill behind in its absence.

“Please don’t,” Jesse told him.

“Scary stories?”

“Do you have to do any of it?

“Scary stories in the form of camp songs?”

“There’s an idea,” Benny said appreciatively. “Should I start us off?”

“By all means, go ahead,” Eugene encouraged. Kasey cheered. Jesse groaned. “Haven’t you ever been camping before?” Eugene asked Jesse quietly as Benny started an awful song. “Singing and scary stories are required by law.”

“Do I look like I’ve been camping before?”

“No. Not at all.”

“There’s a good reason for that.”

“Just wait for the s’mores, you’ll love those. Sticky and gooey and delicious.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

And, despite all his faces as Eugene had demonstrated how to toast the perfect marshmallow and prepare the perfect s’more, Jesse actually did love them. Enough, at least, to attempt making his own after eating the sample Eugene had made for him.

“Wait, it’s—Eugene— _Eugene!”_ Jesse’s alarmed shriek had Eugene’s adrenaline going until he looked up from putting together another s’more and saw Jesse waving around a flaming marshmallow on the end of his skewer. “It’s on fire!”

“Just blow it out.”

“Blow it out?”

“Yes, like—,” Eugene grabbed the skewer over Jesse’s hand and brought in the burning marshmallow, stopping it in front of Jesse’s startled face. “This. Blow it out just like a birthday candle.”

After the fire was out, Eugene rescued the crispy, goopy remains and sandwiched them in with chocolate and graham crackers.

“There. Perfect.”

“It’s burnt.”

“It’s still good. Trust me.”

“It’s _burnt,”_ Jesse said again, sure Eugene hadn’t heard him right the first time. With a laugh, Eugene swapped out Jesse’s s’more for his.

“There. Have that one and then try again.

“I’ll just have you make me one if I want another.”

* * *

When the fire burned itself out and Benny had sung himself out, it was time for bed. Jesse lingered by the extinguished fire, bundled in all his layers and looking up. Eugene came up behind him.

“The sleeping bags are ready and waiting, your highness. I even brought a foam mat for you to sleep on.”

“The stars are so pretty up here.”

Eugene looked up too. “Yeah, they are. Clear sky, fresh air. Good, right?”

“I’m cold. And I smell like a campfire. But yes. Good.”

“Allie knows all about constellations and stuff if you’re interested, I could go get her.”

“No, I’m happy just looking at them alone like this.”

The stars were bright and gorgeous in the sky, a spray of lights across the dark swath of night. But Eugene kept looking down instead, admiring the way the moonlight danced off Jesse’s cheekbones and made his hair shine a sweet yellow.

“I’m glad you agreed to come.”

“Me too,” Jesse said softly. Then he stood and looked around the empty clearing. “Bedtime?”

“Yup. Follow me to your chambers, right this way.”

“You can’t say ‘chambers’ when it’s only one room. And I thought I had to share it?”

“You do.”

“Then, really, you’re showing me to our chamber.”

“Alright, show off, you’re very clever.” Eugene held up the flap for Jesse. “After you.”

A little hesitantly, Jesse ducked into the tent.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Don’t you want to change out of your jeans first? I mean, I don’t really mind but I thought you’d appreciate the privacy."

“Oh, right, thanks.”

Eugene let the flap fall shut and listened as Jesse rummaged around forever. Finally, he poked his head back out.

“You can come in now.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Eugene climbed in and zipped the tent up, nice and snug. The lantern light set out illuminated the small tent and the not so small boy in it. Jesse avoided his eye when he noticed Eugene looking at him and slid inside his sleeping bag in a hurry.

“Did you—?” Eugene started, then stopped himself. Jesse’s ears were faintly pink and, if he’d settled down facing Eugene, there was a good chance his cheeks would have proven just as pink. He’d rearranged his layers and restyled his hair hastily while Eugene had waited for him to change. There was no reason for him to have put any effort into his appearance. No one here for him to impress. Except for Eugene.

“Goodnight,” Jesse yawned, obscuring half of his next word, “’Gene.”

 _You’re in it deep now,_ Eugene thought to himself, trying to shove off the affection creeping up him at the accidental nickname and Jesse’s pink ears and sleepy yawn.

“Goodnight, Jess. Sleep tight.”

“Mhmm.”

Eugene turned the dial on their lamp, bringing darkness in all around them. He was no stranger to camping—he liked it and went fairly regularly—so the hard floor and strange nature noises and cold didn’t bother him. But he heard Jesse tossing and turning, even on the mat Eugene had brought for him. He’d be grumpy in the morning, Eugene could just imagine the grumpy pout and purple bags under Jesse’s eyes. They didn’t have coffee. And, if someone had decided to bring instant coffee, they definitely didn’t have enough sweetener to make it anywhere near suitable to Jesse’s tastes.

“—Gene? Eugene?” Jesse whispered cautiously.

“Yeah?”

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes, and I’m sleep talking right now. I’m awake. What’s up?”

“I’m cold.”

“I told you to pack layers.”

“I did. I’m in all my layers.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, bud, unless you want into my sleeping bag too. That’d keep you warm.”

“Okay.”

_What?_

Jesse’s sleeping bag unzipped with obscene clarity. And then fabric was shuffling and Eugene moved over after zipping his bag down enough to allow Jesse to climb into it. It was a tight fit but Jesse didn’t complain a peep as he zipped them back up, and, consequently, squished them closer together.

The curve of Jesse’s spine pressed against Eugene unflinchingly. There was only one thing to do, really, to make this comfortable for either of them. Eugene rolled completely on his side and fit himself around Jesse, snaking arms both over and under him to notch them together even more securely. Through all his layers, it was hard to be sure, but Eugene thought he could feel Jesse’s heart thudding. This was—confusing.

Eugene released a low breath, but he smiled a little too.

“Warm enough now?”

“Yes.” Jesse yawned again and huddled deeper against Eugene. There was no tossing and turning anymore and Jesse’s thudding heart evened out with his breathing. Just when Eugene was convinced he’d dozed off, Jesse whispered, so quiet it was almost lost, “I like camping.”

Jesse adjusted his head very slightly, making full use of Eugene’s arm as a pillow, and with a last little exhale, he was asleep. He looked peaceful and content and sugar-sweet in sleep. More tempting by far than any sweet Eugene had ever seen. The Waking Nights, the time after the beach, and now this. Each new time Eugene saw Jesse’s princely features arranged in sleep, he found himself falling harder.

* * *

A week had passed since Eugene had taken Jesse camping. A week since Eugene had woken up with Jesse curled securely in his arms and looking every bit a sleeping prince. A week since Jesse had yawned awake and turned bleary blue eyes on Eugene with an innocent little _good morning._ As if he hadn’t crawled into Eugene’s bed—his _sleeping bag—_ the night before. As if he hadn’t abandoned the comfort of his foam pad to sleep on the hard, cold floor with Eugene. As if there wasn’t anything strange at all about waking up in Eugene’s arms and wishing him good morning.

They hadn’t talked about it. Jesse had languished in a half-sleep state for some minutes until Benny had come knocking. Then he’d languidly crawled out of bed, leaving the sleeping bag feeling strangely roomy, and complained that there wasn’t a mirror to do his hair.

There wasn’t much to talk about in the way of any of it, Eugene supposed. He wasn’t always sure where he stood with Jesse and never wanted to push too hard in case one of them was standing on the edge of a precipice Eugene couldn’t see. Jesse was an emotional rollercoaster that liked to stop in the most inconvenient places on the track and it was a dangerous game getting him moving again because you never knew which way he’d go. Eugene sincerely did not like when Jesse’s emotions exploded negatively all over him. Having Jesse mad at him was bad, but being mad at Jesse was worse.

Eugene could never, _never_ win with him because he couldn’t stay away. And every day he spent too angry at Jesse to see him was made even worse _because_ he hadn’t seen him. Best to avoid blow-ups altogether.

So they didn’t talk about it.

They’d continued their routine dates, kept perfectly on schedule from Cordelia’s arrival, and talked about mundane things like college and fencing and favorite foods. Today had been more of the same. Eugene and Jesse had walked through the blooming gardens and Eugene had cut free another rose Jesse had told him half-heartedly to leave be. But the flowers looked sweet tucked in Jesse’s hair and, ever since the gardens had bloomed, Jesse had always allowed Eugene to adorn him in petals.

Jesse had led Eugene to his favorite spot in the garden and they’d sat on the green grass and eaten the strawberries Jesse had pilfered from the kitchen. Conversation had lapsed into silence, comfortable and natural.

Eugene looked up at the pink sky, feeling at ease under it, even here on this huge estate in this fancy garden with this pompous prince. It was a long while before he noticed Jesse wasn’t watching the sky.

“Do I have something on my face?” Eugene asked.

“Just the setting sun.”

“In that case, it’s all over you too.”

“Does it suit me?”

“Yes.”

Jesse’s phone pinged, ending the soft edges of the moment and bringing back the solid lines of reality.

“Cordelia,” Jesse said, standing up. Eugene did likewise and they left their picnic spot. “I’m very nearly late to our dinner.”

“Better get to it, then. Is she coming here?”

“Of course, where else would we have the privacy?”

“Ah, yes. The privacy. Of course.” Eugene strolled alongside Jesse, hands in his pockets, unconcerned. Jesse huffed a little, likely displeased at his leisurely pace. But Eugene wasn’t the one very nearly late to a meeting, so what did he care?

“Cordelia is a very fine woman, you know.” It was casually said but too suddenly inserted into conversation.

“So I’ve been told.”

“And she’s _quite_ fond of me.”

“You’re always telling me that everyone is,” Eugene replied lightly.

“Not only is she lovely, enamored with me, and readily available, but she also is unafraid of a little scandal. I’ve been seeing her for ages now, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was keen on advancing our relationship soon. Perhaps even this evening.”

“Getting into the advanced stuff, huh? Enjoy that, it sounds fun.”

“Ah, and there she is,” Jesse said, but his pace had slowed as he pointed her out, her fancy dress looking like something out of a period drama. Fated were just like that, Eugene had found. They got to dress as crazy as they liked and it was seen as innovative and fashionable.

“There she is,” Eugene repeated. “She does look especially dolled up tonight, I think you might get lucky.”

“Yes, I think I might.”

They reached Cordelia and Eugene bowed his head respectfully in greeting. She sneered at him; she always did.

“Have fun,” he told them. More Jesse than Cordelia, really. Then, with an aborted pat of Jesse’s back that he thought better of just in time, Eugene turned to leave them. To leave the Coste estates and head back home for the night.

Before long, the chatter of the pair he’d left behind faded out. He took the scenic route back to the front gates, enjoying the soft breeze and cool, fresh air of the early evening.

Behind him, Eugene heard footsteps, purposeful and cross. His mouth tugged up. Just a smidge. He hardly slowed, letting Jesse put on some extra speed to catch up. When he did, he was breathing hard.

“Don’t you care?” He demanded.

“About Cordelia?”

“ _Yes_ about Cordelia.”

“Why would I?”

“Because—because you’re my _soulmate._ You’re meant to like me. To want me. You’re not meant to walk off and leave me with notoriously promiscuous women who are overtly fond of me without even looking back.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s how this is supposed to work. Would you stop walking?” Jesse grabbed Eugene’s arm, halting him with force. Eugene let him, turning easily to face his soulmate.

“You’re the one that wanted to be left alone with her.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all? Aren’t you even a little jealous?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“I—oh, you’re not really going to make me say it, are you?”

Eugene held back a grin at Jesse’s red-faced sulk. “You told me you wanted a pretty princess.”

“I did, but I guess you’ll do,” Jesse ground out.

“Guess I’ll do? How sweet.”

Jesse had an internal struggle and, stubborn as a very pretty mule, he stuck out his chin and said, “I guess I’ll just go back to Cordelia, then. Since you really don’t care what I do or whom I do it with.” And he turned on his heel, ready to march back the way he’d come. Eugene caught his elbow and hauled him back.

“Why should I be worried about Cordelia when you’re _my_ soulmate?” He asked Jesse.

“That’s just it, but I’ve already said. As my soulmate, you should be worried about those sorts of things but you don’t care, do you? You never did.”

“I told you you could be with whatever girl you wanted because it doesn’t really matter.” Eugene still hadn’t let go of Jesse’s arm. “From the start, there was never anything to worry about. You’re my soulmate. I knew you wouldn’t really want to be with any of those girls in the end. And I was right.”

Jesse stared at him.

“You mean to tell me that this whole time, you were just—just setting me up?”

“If you can call it that, sure.”

“But I—how could you be sure I wouldn’t actually have any interest in,” Jesse cleared his throat, roses in his cheeks to match the one still in his hair, _“being_ with Cordelia?”

Eugene raised his eyebrows at the confirmation to his suspicions. “I didn’t. But I meant it that you could do whatever with whoever you needed before finding your way back to me. I’ll like you all the same, whether or not you’ve let Cordelia get her over-eager claws in you. It doesn’t matter. No matter what, you’re my soulmate, right? Mine to love even if you’re a difficult pain in the ass and a brat and a vain, image-obsessed prince.”

“I’d like that confession a lot better without all the insults.”

“I wasn’t confessing. I was just stating facts.”

“Then I want a confession. I want it to be grand and heartfelt and perfect and I want it right now.”

“Jesse Coste,” Eugene said steadily, seriously, never losing sight of Jesse’s eyes that were more beautiful than any sky Eugene had ever seen. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t even imagine how I lived before I met you. I can’t stay away from you and I can’t stop thinking about you. I love you. I love your smile. I love when I can make you laugh. I love you when you act like a spoiled prince. And I love you when you act like a normal person. Everything about you and all the time, no matter what. I love you.”

Jesse took a shuddering breath, looking as unsteady as the night Eugene had first woken him. His grip on Jesse’s arm tightened a little, in case Jesse started tilting as he had on the chaise so many months ago.

“I didn’t think you’d actually...”

“Deliver your request for a proper confession?” Eugene laughed. “So now that I’ve given it, what do you say? Are you ready to love me yet?”

“Yes,” Jesse’s reply was soft. Shy or disbelieving or both.

“Good,” Eugene couldn’t help his huge smile. “Because it’s been driving me mad thinking of anyone else touching you, even if I knew you needed that freedom.”

Jesse shook his head. “I didn’t. I mean—maybe I needed the freedom but I didn’t ever want to advance my relationship with Cordelia. I only said that to make you take notice.”

“I already had taken notice, even if you’re so judgy that I figured you’d be unable to do what I’d given you permission to do. It wasn’t nice of you to use her, though.” It wasn’t nice of Eugene, either. He’d known that eventually Jesse would come around to him and leave whatever girl he’d found in the meantime behind, likely broken-hearted. But Cordelia had obviously been using Jesse, too, so Eugene felt little sympathy for her.

“I broke it off with her,” Jesse said in a rush, surprising Eugene. “Just now, I sent her away with my apologies. I don’t like her, I never did. Not—not the way I like you.”

Eugene took a step closer, his hand running up Jesse’s arm and tracing up his neck. Jesse shivered.

“May I kiss you?” Eugene asked, hand cupping Jesse’s face.

“Yes,” Jesse whispered, arms raising to wrap around him, gentle but sure. “Please do.”

Eugene did, sweeping fingers past a pink rose and into soft yellow hair. Kissing Jesse now was different than the last time Eugene had touched his lips to Jesse’s. Jesse was warm and sweet and reactant. Alive and wonderfully enthusiastic. This didn’t feel like a stolen kiss; this was a properly and happily given kiss, mouth sliding against Eugene’s with the promise of many more kisses to come.

* * *

The fall night was pleasant as Eugene climbed from his car, a bag of ice under his arm. Eugene delivered it to Jorge in the kitchens, slipping in through the discreetly taped door. Benny was already there, laughing at the inside joke. A year ago today, it was a different bag of ice that had brought Eugene here and set his life on a strange new course. 

“You two, shoo,” Jorge scolded them, waving them towards the door with a dishtowel. “Guests aren’t allowed back here.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jorge, we’re just trying to help.”

“Out with you,” he insisted again. “Benny can help tomorrow night at the Christianson benefits gala when he’s actually on the clock.”

“See you tomorrow, boss,” Benny said, turning to leave the hubbub, Eugene in tow. “How’d I know you’d be here?”

“Same reason I knew you’d be here,” Eugene told him with a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Because it feels too weird to do this any other way.”

“I can’t believe you brought ice.”

The ballroom was buzzing with music and conversation when Eugene and Benny stepped into it. Benny was quickly stolen away by a beaming Kasey, decked out in a full ball gown.

“Fated parties are the best!” She told Eugene before disappearing into the crowd. “I feel like a princess!”

Eugene watched his friends as they danced outrageously poorly. He saw some of his and Jesse’s other UnFated friends, too, Allie and Drake and Jane. It was good to see them here.

Through the crowd, Eugene heard a laugh. Pretty and entirely sincere. Then the bustle of party guests shifted and Eugene spotted Jesse. By the smile on Jesse’s face, Eugene concluded that he’d been spotted as well.

Jesse excused himself from the throng and pushed his way to Eugene’s side, arm slipping to hold around Eugene’s.

“Happy birthday,” Eugene told him with a kiss to the back of his hand. Jesse laughed again, happy and thriving from the excitement of the party.

“I should scold you for being so late but I’m just glad you’re here.”

“As if I’d miss it. I needed to pick something up.”

“Did you?” Jesse asked with interest. “A present?”

“Don’t be spoiled, you’ll have plenty of gifts from all your fancy friends.”

“I recognize that smile,” Jesse said confidently. “You’re teasing me. So I know you’ve got something for me, don’t pretend.”

“You’re too clever for me. Got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“I don’t know about that. But I’m certainly trying to.”

Eugene glanced at the gold-gilded clock. With Jesse on his arm, Eugene walked across the floor like he’d only done a couple of times before, despite having been in this room relatively often last year. He stopped them on the approximate spot Jesse’s sleeping body had once been carefully arranged on.

“I know it’s technically a fortnight early,” Eugene whispered in Jesse’s ear. And then, right on time, Eugene knelt down to one knee. Jesse’s gasp was loud enough to garner some attention, which quickly turned into a hushed chorus of _look, look over there._

“Jess,” Eugene said, drawing the small box he’d picked up today from his pocket, “a year ago exactly, I saw you for the first time. I didn’t know it then, how much that moment would change my life. Change me. But it did. I’ll never forget it, never get your eyes out of my mind. Never stop feeling lucky every time I see them looking at me, whether in anger or affection. I’ve told you a thousand times I love you. But you’re more than just someone I love. You _are_ my love, made tangible and real. You are my soulmate and my love and, now, I am asking you to be my husband too. So, my prince, my Jesse, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Jesse said it so quietly, so softly, with so little movement of his pink lips, Eugene was sure he was the only one who knew Jesse had answered.

Jesse let Eugene slip the engagement ring on his finger just as he’d let Eugene slip flowers in his hair for months. The crowd went riotous at the display, loud and joyous. There was sure to be lots of video coverage of this, Jesse should be pleased.

But, instead of behaving regally and composed for all the cameras pointing at him, Jesse fell upon Eugene with a delighted laugh before he’d had time to stand back up. Surprised, Eugene caught Jesse just before Jesse kissed him.

“I love you,” Jesse told Eugene when he finally pulled away, arms still holding tight around his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Another kiss. Another laugh. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're done for real this time! phew, thanks for coming back to this world with me, I ended up not being able to stay away, I just had too much fun with it! (remember how I said this was shorter than my other soulmate au fuckery and so got to be written first? While still technically true, I think it's funny that this ended up like six times the original length so it's not exactly short enough to justify writing it...whoops oh well)
> 
> A couple of notes:  
> 1\. if you don’t get excited about sand crabs when u go the beach, u can’t be friends with me :/  
> 2\. Kasey's phone is specifically an iphone 7 plus. irrelevant detail but my sibling wanted to know so as to get the laser tag picture in the correct ratio. So, if you're ever wondering why I am Like This, you should know that I come by it honestly. Basically my entire family is as extra as I am in their own ways  
> 3\. no, i will not stop roasting Jesse for the way he wears sweaters  
> 4\. See how many fucking date ideas I need to come up with for these two?? It's insane, frankly. I'm all out of ideas. In the next fic they're going on a date in a carwash while eating a single macaron they got at Whole Foods because that counts as a good date imo (I'm joking. They won't do that. probably. I still stand by it being a perfectly good date but I somehow feel that Jesse would disagree)
> 
> Ok all talking's finished now, sorry lmao usually chunks like this are broken down more so I have time to talk after relevant scenes but this story needed to be in parts for the POV pattern and they, uh, got a little out of hand. I think I forget how long things can get when you combine a billion scenes. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! You guys are my favorite people ever 💜💜💜


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